


Bound by Fate: Book 3 The Bond Series

by Foreverwolf_6



Series: The Bond Series: Merlin [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), BAMF Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Caring Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Crystal Cave (Merlin), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Evil Uther Pendragon (Merlin), Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Self-Doubt, Slash, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 43,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27676259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foreverwolf_6/pseuds/Foreverwolf_6
Summary: Sometimes you have to save the past to save the future, but secrets lurk in years long forgotten. Will those secrets be an ending, or a beginning? Their Bond faces its deadliest challenge yet- each other! Established MERTHUR. MerlinWHUMP! ProtectiveArthur! A little graphic slash, but I think mostly safely rated T.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: The Bond Series: Merlin [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022760
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AN: So, a friend of mine challenged me. This, I assume, is her version of 'supporting' my return to the world of Fanfiction, lol. She wanted: Poisoned Merlin; Time Travel; OverProtective/Upset Arthur; Ruthless Uther; Merlin's other Secrets. I decided I could make that fit with this series, lol. So…. Here goes… I think I hit them all and still managed to maintain some kind of a plot? Plus, as always, Slash!

**ONE YEAR AGO**

Morgana paced, glancing at the package sitting on the table in her hovel. It had been delivered to her by one of her Uncle's men. She had, at first, thought it a missive from Agravaine, though it was unlike him not to come himself.

But there had been something about the man, about the way he shifted his weight back and forth, the way his expression kept flickering between terror and resignation.

" _Who is it from?" she asked._

" _Your brother sends a message, mi'lady, and this package with his compliments. It is his hope that once you open it, you will understand who your true enemy is."_

She almost regretted killing him. Almost.

Finally, she opened the layers of burlap and waxed cloth, and hissed, drawing back instinctively. Inside were two ears, four fingers, and one whole hand. On the hand, Agravaine's signet ring still sat, painted in blood. It wasn't the grotesque contents that had made her withdraw instinctively. It was the understanding that came with it.

She hadn't thought her brother capable of- but then she had to admit the truth. She knew the boy she had grown up with. Knew what he was capable of to protect those he held dear. The lengths he would go to for those he dared to brave the word 'love' in association with. After all, he had once done much for her.

Soft hearted and trusting. That had been the boy. And then the servant had come. Had begun to shape the man Arthur would become. Something had changed him after the Questing Beast nearly took his life. He'd returned to the world of waking wiser, and while always hopeful, inherently less trusting, less tolerant of what he viewed as the failure of others to uphold his sense of justice.

Though her own betrayal had hurt him, he had never been surprised by it. If anything, he seemed to accept it as a personal, but inevitable, failure on his part. She hadn't realized he still held hope for her until this package. Simple words delivered, but the significance and meaning were clear to her.

If he had been able to send this to her, he knew how to find her. He had deliberately chosen not. Chosen to hold onto hope. His gift to her, as her brother, as her last link to the woman she had once been. Before her soul had blackened with hate and fear.

The remains of their Uncle was another clear message. The uneasy truce was over. Emrys was no longer the enemy she needed to fear. In her attempt at revenge against the servant that had foiled her plans time and again, she had stirred within Arthur the realization of all he was truly capable of. Made known to him exactly where his priorities were. Sometimes justice required a hardened heart to in order to protect what kept it human.

She'd made a terrible mistake in underestimating her brother.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So. If you have not read Darkest Days- the short story in between The Choice timeline and this one, to catch up, all you need to know is that Gaius has passed away. Merlin went through a particularly dark time of his recovery, the boys went through some tough moments for their relationship, but managed to find their way to each other again. This bit of day to day fluff is designed to show a passage of time, and how they've moved on since then.
> 
> Also, be warned, a bit of graphic slashy yumminess right up front.

Arthur groaned, sleep leaving him swiftly as pleasure drove itself through his state of unconsciousness. Merlin was on top of him, beautifully naked, straddling his hips, slowly surging his oiled length against Arthur's already awake and eager girth.

Before he even had a chance to be cognizant of his actions, his hands automatically went to those slim hips, moving up the curve of a lean but well-muscled side, prickled skin and gasps following wherever his hands touched.

He arched his own hardness against the softest skin, delighting in the feeling of smooth silk against him. Wordlessly they moved with each other, their grunts and pants the only sound filling the room. When Merlin let his head fall back, eyes closed, expression of exquisite pleasure on his face as he let his pelvis flow to match Arthur's upward buck- the King lost any sense of control.

Growling, Arthur flipped them both over, Merlin giving a little puff of surprise when his back hit the soft mattress below him. He began to open his mouth to say something, but Arthur leaned down and captured the soft pink jewels with his own, using the already open mouth to his advantage, thrusting an eager tongue between them. Fingers already oiled from their previous friction found their prize and worked to stretch it, the boy beneath him making the most delicious of sounds against his lips.

Arthur could restrain himself no longer, and he slide into the willing heat and ecstasy that was being inside his lover, angling just so, shivering as Merlin cried out his name, breaking away from his kiss and arching his head back, exposing the swan like neck. He palmed the quivering length that bobbed between them, tender and reverently. Arthur thrust again, biting down- hard- on the delicate skin of Merlin's throat. The combination of tender and pain drove his lover over the edge, screaming inarticulately as he climaxed, spurting over Arthur's hand.

As always, Merlin's vocalization and the responding spasm of muscles drove Arthur over his own edge. He thrust deeply one last time, gasping out Merlin's name as his own finish was milked out of him.

Arthur put his forehead to his lover's, closing his eyes to ride out the final throes, holding the lithe form still tightly to him, as he regained his breath. He'd never gotten over the habit of holding the younger man for just that little bit longer. It helped ground him, bring him back to the reality that existed outside the two of them.

When he opened his eyes, he found Merlin looked very self-satisfied and Arthur couldn't resist scooping down to kiss the impish expression away.

"Hmmmmm, good morning, Sire," Merlin purred in his ear. Arthur closed his eyes and fought against the shudder that wanted to go through him. After a year together, the two were very familiar with each other, and what drove them.

Puffing a laugh, Arthur let go of the warlock and flopped onto his back. "Are you _trying_ to make us late?" he accused, arching an eyebrow at his lover. Merlin rolled over to his side, shooting his King a look of pure innocence.

"Of course not, Sire. Just following orders."

"You? Following orders?" Arthur laughed. "Who's orders?"

"Yours, of course. You said yesterday that if I ever woke you with a bucket of ice water again, you'd make sure I became re-familiarized with my old duties… _and_ my old chambers. So since ice is out of the question, I decided to give fire a try."

Arthur grinned, sat up, then leaned over his smirking lover. "I don't recall you being quite that clever in interpreting my orders before."

Merlin winked at him. "I have more options at my disposal now than I did before," he chuckled. He reached up for a quick kiss, then shoved his King so he'd follow through and move off the bed. "See? You're up?"

He rose himself, heading for the wash basin that had been put on his side. A quick flash of gold warmed it up a little. He had just managed to put his breeches on when Arthur's new servant- Boris- came in with their breakfast.

Arthur's previous four servants had not lasted long. Three of them had looked just a little too long at Merlin's various stages of nudity. The fourth, unfortunately, had dared to utter a sound of disgust the first time he'd walked in on them kissing.

Merlin thought Boris might survive. Arthur had deliberately baited him the first time he'd come into the room, running his hands over every inch that had been available of Merlin's shirtless torso that day, calling to the man intent on ignoring them while he set the table, "Isn't he a stunning piece of work?"

Boris, bless him, had turned, given Merlin an open- and uncomfortably frank- visual assessment before nodding. "Your Majesty is indeed blessed by the most exquisite taste, as is suitable to his rank and station. I am content to be a simple man, and must make the best of appreciating a hefty bosom." And gone back to his duties.

Arthur had given him a raise.

"Sire, Master Merlin," Boris greeted this morning. "I'm afraid I had to improvise, as all the kitchens are occupied with the feast this evening." He shifted, uncomfortable. "It was your orders, Sire, that no efforts be spared for it."

Arthur nodded, sitting himself down at his table. He had been impressed when Boris, an astute and clever man he'd decided, on his first day had automatically brought enough for two, as well as prepared a second seat with utensils. Merlin joined a moment later, still uneasy with being served himself as Boris diligently filled with his goblet with… his eyes widened in delight.

"Apple juice!" he took a deep drink of his favorite treat, delighting in its sweetness. "It's delicious!" Merlin said between drinks, nodding enthusiastically when Boris offered to fill his cup again. Arthur had to shift in his chair, the sounds of pleasure Merlin was making certain parts of him rather uncomfortable. But he smiled. For a moment, he could picture a 16 year old boy fresh to Camelot being astounded by all the new sights and sounds. For a few sips, Merlin's pure joy washed away years of stress and battles.

Arthur noted Boris looked immensely pleased with himself, and decided then that perhaps he was due another raise. "Cook gave me some of the apples that were badly bruised and overripe. Too sweet to make good cider from, but perfect for juice, I have always found. You have to be a little kinder to them, takes a long time, but well worth it."

Merlin smiled in appreciation. "You make this yourself? Arthur, you have to try it! It's got a hint of… something… I can't quite place it," Merlin rolled it around his tongue. He felt he should know this, having once been a physician's apprentice.

"It is Thyme, Master Merlin. Excellent palate. Just a little, but enough to stop it from being overbearingly sweet. Would you like some, your Majesty?" Boris asked, slightly awkward. He'd had no intention of offering any to the King- not a peasant's drink!- but felt to not after Merlin's instructions would have been rude. He was beginning to realize it was going to be a challenge to serve when both were in the same room. Though, he did not think the King would deny the boy _any_ indulgence, so perhaps he may survive this in this position yet.

"I'll take a taste," Arthur nodded absently, more intent on watching Merlin enjoy it. It made him smile to see Merlin enjoy a surprise treat. He took a drink automatically to wash away the stirrings his lover's delight was having on him… and blinked. It was, actually, quite good. He'd never had it before, of course, as it was generally considered a peasant's drink.

"Very good, actually. You will, of course, provide with me what amounts you can spare?" Merlin choked on his suddenly, coughing, wiping away a dribble that had escaped his mouth. Arthur smirked at him. He didn't deny enjoying some of the finer points of his rank, but nor had he ever shied away from the new. On campaign, he'd seen squirrel or snake in the cookpot as often as rabbit.

Boris looked stupefied. "I… forgive me, Sire. Unfortunately, I made only a small amount. It was my youngest daughter who told me of Master Merlin's fondness for it and insisted I bring some for him. The rest has been given to family and neighbors. It doesn't keep."

Merlin put an urgent hand on his arm, his eyes round and concerned. "How is Maya? I'm sorry I've been too busy to come by to see her."

Boris shot a nervous look at the King. Merlin's current familiarity was very inappropriate while he was performing his duties as Manservant to the King. Arthur's expression was anything from angry, however. He popped some bread into his mouth, and waited for him to answer.

"You'd never know how badly her arm was broken, Master Merlin. She helped me make this, as a matter of fact. She'll be a strong lass when she grows up. We can't thank you enough for Healing her," Boris expressed sincerely. "She said to tell you, which I would have in a more appropriate space," he blushed, glancing at Arthur again, "that the juice is made with a special kind of love and will help keep your magic strong."

Now it was Merlin's turn to blush as he thanked the man, and said to pass along that it was the best he'd ever had, and he felt stronger already.

Boris excused himself to tidy the chambers while they ate, feeling as if he'd spent enough time gossiping around the King's table.

Arthur stayed quiet while Merlin purposely ignored his raised eyebrow, digging into his breakfast. He slowly ate pieces of his own. Finally unable to take it, Merlin dropped his fork. "She fell, all right? I just happen to be nearby when it occurred. It was very badly broken, Arthur. Even if I had run to fetch the Physician, it would never have worked properly again. The man's completely incompetent." His heart clenched, missing his guardian as he explained. Though he had no particular reason, he didn't overly like the new Physician. Arthur assured him the post was temporary, that a Druid Physician would come in the Spring, but he avoided the odd man at all times.

"I thought I explained it, Merlin," Arthur said gently.

"I know, and I agreed, didn't I? It's not like I spend my days Healing down in the lower town. Or anywhere else. You're right. It's not realistic for me to spend most of my days healing every little bump and scrape. But, Arthur, she's six years old. That arm would have disfigured her, and she'd be pained for the rest of her life. At six, that's a long life," Merlin pleaded for understanding. Arthur still looked like he was ready to give him a sound lecture, so he decided to end with his final argument. "It's what Gaius would have wanted me to do."

And just like that, Arthur melted, nodding. "He would have," he agreed, wishing he could let Merlin know just how much _he_ missed the old man too. But it was still a tender wound on Merlin's heart, so he cleared his throat. "So, let's go over today's schedule and then get to it, shall we?"

And just like that, Merlin found himself missing the comparatively simple life of a servant. In his role as Consort and Sorcerer, he spent almost as much of his time in political circles as Arthur did these days. And with this afternoon's special arrival, there was still more to do to prepare.

What he wouldn't give to be scrubbing the floor again.

_**MERLIN10101010101010101010101MERLIN** _

Merlin sighed as he took in the clothes 'his' manservant had laid out for him. He had strongly opposed the idea of one, but both Gwen and Arthur had insisted. He'd conceded only once Arthur has pointed out it created a job for someone. And, if he was honest, his new chambers- right next to the King's- were almost as large as Arthur's. He'd never been the most tidy person, and with so much space- he simply didn't have time to keep it clean.

And, he liked Ian. His senior by about 15 years, the man had a quiet way about him that Merlin appreciated. Conscious of Merlin's former position, he was dutiful without being overbearing. Respectful without being a boot licker. Gwen had been very careful with her choosing, sure that if he dismissed one, he'd never let another take the position.

"Ian," Merlin groaned, eyeing the thin but ornate silver circlet sitting on top of them, a blue sapphire the size of his longest fingernail set into the center being held up by two small dragons. The sides were worked in a simple, but attractive, design of dragons.

Ian didn't flinch. "The King's orders, My Lord. He said you were being presented with full honors this afternoon."

Merlin sighed. "Ian, we've had this talk. I'm not…," he stopped, sighing. Damn Arthur for encouraging this. He was the last Dragon Lord, but the name, he knew, was a description of activity, not a title. In addition, Arthur had also let the entire castle know that not only was he Lord of Ealdor, but he'd also taken over Lord Agravaine's estates and titles, which included a Dukedom. "I prefer just Merlin," he finished lamely.

"Of course, my Lord. As you say." Always the same answer. Agreeable, but with absolutely no intention of ever using it.

"You know I called Arthur by name for years when I was his servant?" Merlin pointed out as he looked at the clothes. Black breeches, of course. They would be tight, too, he knew. This time paired with a dark blue, waist length doublet that buckled in the front. The sleeves were slim, and again just that little bit too long where his cuffs would be tied to keep them from falling over his hands.

"And my Lord was lucky to keep his head for it."

He dressed under Ian's careful eye. He'd gotten used to dressing in front of the servant. He'd needed his help too often when he'd been recovering to be shy now. And he knew if Arthur had gone to the trouble of deliberately leaving these orders, Ian would also be under orders to make sure he wore the appropriate clothing. A last minute change would not be an option.

He frowned, looking around. "Ian, where are my cuffs?" The trouble with having a servant, he'd discovered, is never being able to find anything! He was beginning to feel guilty for all those times he'd teased Arthur about losing his things.

"The King sends this, with his affections," Ian answered, coming to stand in front of Merlin with a box. Merlin opened it, taking in a swift breath. Inside was another set of Cuffs, these silvers with a line of three sapphires the same size as the one in the circlet, complete with matching dragons carved into the side. "If my Lord would permit me to help with them?"

Merlin nodded, sticking out his arm. They were beautiful, and much more ornate than the silver and gold ones he'd always previously worn. He smiled, remembering when Arthur had first presented the others to him, also marked with detailed dragons to show his veneration for the Dragon Lord title Merlin carried by birth.

Over a year ago, now. It had been the same day Agravaine had arrived in Camelot. That was the first time Arthur had sprang the Court Sorcerer and Prince Consort titles on him. He'd been so shocked that he'd embarrassed his King by giving a servants bow. He'd been properly schooled since then. Gaius had made sure he knew exactly how he was to respond appropriately to each rank. It had been dreary lessons- especially since short of Arthur and Gwen, between all his titles, there were very few who outranked him.

Being a former servant herself raised to an especially high rank, Gwen had spent a lot of time with him too, teaching. She had grown up a blacksmith's daughter, but her mother had served in Leon's house, and then she'd spent years watching the inner workings of the court as Morgana's maidservant.

His heart pinched again. They hadn't been as close, since his foray into darkness. She was still a wonderful friend to both he and Arthur, but there had been something broken between them when he'd hurt Arthur with his magic. He would sell his soul on the spot to take back those weeks, but he knew that only time would work to heal what he had carelessly tossed away. As Gaius had been fond of telling him, a vase glued back together still had cracks even if it would hold water.

Merlin jerked back, surprised, as something headed directly for his face. He blinked, noting that Ian had frozen still, waiting for him to come out of his thoughts. It was the circlet, of course. Ian was putting it on to make sure he followed Arthur's orders. "Sorry," he murmured.

"No need to be, my Lord. I should have made my intentions clear," Ian forgave, as he always did whenever Merlin startled out of memories from a darker time. Merlin appreciated that Ian never made a big deal of it, merely waited patiently.

Merlin gave himself a shake, then grinned as Ian fussed with his hair to make it settle on the circlet just so. He always felt awkward wearing it, but Arthur had truly meant well with it. An obvious symbol of stature, it would be difficult for any to claim they had not known about Merlin's change in rank. "So, will I suit?"

He'd been joking, but Ian took his inspection seriously. He finally nodded. "If you remember the status these attribute to you, the King will be proud to have you at his side."

Merlin gawked. It was the closest Ian had ever come to a rebuke. "I'm beginning to think you care, Ian," he joked, pleased when his servant flashed him a quick smile.

"Of course I care, _my_ Lord," Ian stressed the possession. "I will be out there too, as a high ranking servant. I know it was never something you paid much heed to when you served Arthur, but our guest will be bringing his own servants as well. How you present yourself will either confirm or deny my own status."

Merlin's face fell, and he looked genuinely concerned. "Oh. I never thought of it like that. Gwen tried to explain, when I first got here, what my position meant, but I'll admit, I didn't really listen. I am sorry if I've embarrassed you in the past. Or… in the castle, since I suppose the same is true here as well."

He looked so disheartened that Ian couldn't stop himself from softening, a little. "You're a good Master, my Lord. Kind, caring, and generous. When the Queen Regent let it be known the position was available, there were many who wanted it, even knowing you were likely to a be handful in regards to decorum. It's why she picked me, actually. She thought I had enough experience to be able to teach, but not so much pride to demand what you would unlikely be able to give."

"I will try," Merlin promised sincerely.

"I know you will, my Lord," Ian answered fondly. "Now, let's get you to the Council Chambers. The King wants to do a final run through of the Treaty before Prince Durstan arrives."

"Oh," Merlin responded, allowing himself to be ushered out. "Thrilling."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Taking liberties with the little known British History that is between the fall of the Roman Empire and the Norman Conquest (the gap in which Arthurian Legend is based). The discovery a few years ago of a possible 6th century palace at Tintagel indicating a Ruling Cast in the Southwest British Kingdom called Dumnonia is the inspiration! For true historians who know better, know more than a mere hobbiest, I sincerely apologize, lmao!
> 
> MERLIN1010101010101010101010101010MERLIN

Merlin stood, tense and ready, in his usual spot behind Arthur's left shoulder. The King had given him yet another close inspection before nodding his approval- to Ian, of all things! As if the warlock couldn't dress himself!

He fidgeted a little, then shot a glance over to where Ian stood, tall, square shoulders, and elegant in his quiet pride. Merlin tried to emulate him. He turned, hearing the procession as it came through the gates. The Dumnonian Prince had brought half the contents of his castle, the warlock was sure. He took a moment to exchange a quick smirk with his King, then turned back, openly curious.

Prince Durstan was imposing on his pure black steed, rich purples and greens flowing about him in fine velvet clothes. Behind him rode ten Knights, all sharing the same colors, except reversed where the greens were primary accented with purples. The two dozen servants riding behind wore less expensive clothing, but were also carrying the House Colors.

It was a display of wealth, Merlin realized. He hadn't registered the significance of every servant being on their own horse at first glance. It wasn't hard to look suitably impressed.

Arthur stepped forward as Durstan dismounted. "Camelot welcomes a Prince of Dumnonia! We are honored for this opportunity to bring our two kingdoms closer under the banner of peace!"

Durstan gave Arthur a respectful bow. "We are welcomed, Sire." When he straightened, he grinned and reached out to shake Arthur's hand, now that protocol had been observed, with genuine warmth. "King Arthur, it is a pleasure to meet you at long last! Your exploits are becoming legendary even as far as to reach our humble borders!"

Arthur returned his smile, as eager as the Prince's. "I am eager to hear stories of Dumnonia's famous trade empire! To have mastered the seas is no small feat!" Arthur managed to sound equally impressed.

Durstan turned to Merlin.

"Forgive me, this is… " Arthur trailed off, in shock, when Durstan went down on one knee in front of Merlin, fist pressed to his chest.

"Forgive me, King Arthur, but there are none among my people who do not know of Emrys, Chosen of the Triple Goddess. Who else would stand so honored by your side? My honor to serve, Great One."

Arthur relaxed. It was not the first time he had come across the veneration for Merlin's Druidic name, though he secretly delighted in the boys' deep blush and uncomfortable murmurs of welcome. He looked so lost whenever people did this. He shouldn't have been surprised, he thought. After all, Dumnonia had reached out an offer of peace and trade only _after_ Arthur had published the ban on magic lifted. He couldn't even bring himself to be surprised when the Prince reached for Merlin's hand, delivering a kiss of loyalty to the top of it.

Merlin smiled, trying to politely tug his hand back. Arthur frowned when he managed, giving it a bit of a shake, frowning at it. While never comfortable with the routine, Merlin had always been careful to endure and accept. Arthur decided it was time to rescue his lover. "Also allow me to present the Queen Regent, Guinevere," he swept his hand to his right, subtly turning Durstan's attention to her.

The Prince offered the former protocols, but seemed equally enthusiastic to be finished with formalities as he grinned, taking her hand in his. Arthur thought he caught a mutual flash of appreciation from both of them. "Your highness is welcome in Camelot's halls," Gwen murmured, captivated by the incredible brown of his eyes.

"Your Grace. My mother extends her apologies to you, directly, for her inability to be here. The Queen is heavy with child, and unable to make such an arduous journey. But she sends gifts of fine silks, exotic scents, and her deepest respect for all you have achieved."

"Thank you, Prince Durstan. Please send fond wishes for a safe delivery and a healthy addition to your Royal House," Gwen replied with a pleased smile.

Arthur frowned as, from the corner of his eye, he saw Merlin had closed his eyes, seeming to fall back a step before catching himself. Ian was already moving toward him.

He turned, using his body to block of the view of his lover. He grinned at his Queen and their visitor. "Gwen, would you mind escorting our guests to their quarters? Prince Durstan, we are arranging a feast this evening to honor your visit, and all the hope that comes with it. We would welcome all who journeyed with you, should it suit them and you."

Durstan's smile split his face. "On behalf of myself, and all my attendants, we accept both the gracious invitation as well as the delight of the honor of our chosen escort," he replied, immediately turning to Gwen and offering his hand. "Your Grace, an honor indeed!"

Gwen looked at Arthur, confused. This wasn't usual, but she knew he'd have to have his reasons. The glances he kept stealing back at Merlin were enough for her to grin, accept the arm, and lead the Prince inside. Immediately he began to gush about all the questions his mother had sent him with.

As soon as they were out of sight, Arthur whipped around to his warlock, who was leaning heavily on Ian, his eyes closed, taking deep breaths. "What's wrong?" Arthur demanded.

Merlin shook his head, then groaned. "I don't know. Suddenly got dizzy," he murmured.

Arthur looked at Ian. "Go find the Physician," he ordered, getting ready to insert himself as the warlock's support, but Merlin waved him off.

"No! Arthur, it's passing. Go see to your guest. Ian can help me back to my chambers. I'll just lay down for a few hours?" Merlin insisted, not wanting to offer any opportunity for their guest to take insult.

Arthur nodded reluctantly, his eyes shooting to Ian. "Stay with him. If he gets worse, send for the Physician, and myself, immediately. No matter _what_ he says."

_**MERLIN10101011010101010MERLIN** _

Arthur swept into Merlin's chambers, pleased to find the warlock napping, while Ian quietly went about polishing his boots. Ian went to stand when the King entered, but Arthur waved him back down. "How is he?" he asked softly.

"He has been sleeping soundly, Sire."

"Was there any signs of anything wrong before the welcome ceremony?" Arthur asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Did you notice anything?"

"No, Sire. He was very much his normal self. Right down to trying to talk his way out of the Circlet, as you said he would."

Merlin stirred then, and Arthur couldn't stop the hand that moved of its own volition to brush away a strand of hair that had fallen into his eyes. "Hey," Arthur greeted gently when they opened and focused on him. "How are you feeling?"

Merlin blinked, stretched, then rolled over onto his back, turning his head to look at his King. "Better. I'm so sorry, Arthur. I don't know what happened. One minute I was fine, the next, dizzy, tired, and feeling sick to my stomach."

"We've been busy. Maybe it just all caught up with you. Do you feel up to the feast? The Prince is eager to speak with you, but he seems quite taken with Gwen. It would be easy to distract him. And I don't believe it would be any great imposition on her. She seems to enjoy the attention."

Merlin smirked, stretching again. "Jealous, Arthur?"

Arthur scoffed, then laughed. "Maybe a little. I don't know why. She's a beautiful woman, and Durstan certainly has his fair share of charm. When we drew up the terms of this Regency, it was always under the assumption that _I_ would be the one to marry."

Merlin wanted to tease his King for being a little arrogant, but decided against it. "Considering her broken heart at the time, Arthur, I don't think that was such an awful assumption to make. It might have hurt her, at the time, to be forced to consider a life beyond Lancelot."

Arthur smiled to himself. "It would not be an unwelcome match. A union between our Queen Regent and the Third Prince of Dumnonia would be of extreme value to both sides, I think, with the right terms in place."

Merlin frowned. "She's not actually royalty, Arthur. It wouldn't be right to force her into a political marriage. There are responsibilities that came with your birthright, expectations that you have been raised to meet. She agreed to this position only to help the people of Camelot."

"I'm wounded, Merlin, that you would think me capable of that. I would never force her, of course. But should mutual interest be involved, I see no harm in encouraging it."

Merlin closed his eyes again, nodding. He was feeling much better. The air around him wasn't spinning anymore, and his stomach didn't feel like it was set to heave at a moment's notice, but he was still feeling oddly tired. He absently shook his hand to be rid of the slight tingle that had taken up residence.

"So, the feast?" Arthur inquired again. "If you're going, you should prepare now."

"I'll go," Merlin confirmed, sitting up.

He looked, in Arthur's opinion, deliciously rumpled. His hair was sticking up at all angles… Arthur knew he had to leave, or they'd be rudely late.

_**MERLIN1010101010101010101010101MERLIN** _

Gwen smiled as the Prince opened the door at her knock. He looked surprised to see her, which was then quickly transformed to genuine delight.

"I was hoping you would escort me to the Feast this evening, my Lord Durstan," she invited.

"Your Grace, it would be an honor." He joined her in the corridor, noting the Knight of Camelot standing a few paces from her. "To protect your virtue or mine?" he joked.

Gwen laughed. "To protect both our reputations. The Queen Regent at the chambers of a man would be quite unseemly." She hooked her arm through his as they started walking. "However, it is perfectly acceptable for Arthur to show his trust in this alliance by sending an appropriate escort."

"Ah. So it was the King's wish?" Durstan sounded a little disappointed, and Gwen felt herself a little flustered as she shook her head.

"No, my Lord Prince, it was mine. I'm sure Arthur would not hesitate to approve, however, had I made my intentions known. How are you settling in? Are the accommodations to your liking?"

"Durstan, please. As third Prince, my titles are dragged out only for necessary ceremony. I would like to think we're beyond that, my Lady."

"Indeed we are. My friends call me Gwen."

"They are quite pleasing, Gwen. My staff have been greeted with the warmest of receptions. The people of Camelot seem to sincerely enjoy their employ and their leaders." He sighed. "I will confess, we all had our concerns."

"How so?"

"To think that Uther and Arthur could be so different… there were fears that the rumors of Arthur were untrue. Designed and deliberately spread to draw out his enemies. You must understand, I mean no offense. Many of my people can reach back to the Druid bloodlines. The ruling family, my family, can trace our ancestry to the first ancient druids in this land. Were he alive still, my father would have forbidden this alliance."

"Arthur is not without his faults, Durstan," Gwen replied gently. "But he is not his father. He believes in an equal justice, and has upheld it whether sorcerer, noble or Knight. He knows the weapon is not guilty, rather it is the wielder of it that takes blame for their actions. Despite for all that he had been hurt by magic, he is willing to overcome it."

Durstan shot her a knowing glance. "You love him."

Gwen laughed. "I do. I invite you to speak freely to any of the subjects of Camelot. Arthur would die to defend each one, and they love him for it. We have seen prosperity these two years he's been King, opened trade routes with the Druids that had previously been closed, and fought for peace. Would you say that's accurate, Sir Leon?" she called behind her.

Leon smiled, and nodded. "I would, my Lady. The King is a brave warrior, fierce in battle, and wise enough to choose them carefully."

Durstan laughed. "My my! I begin to fear we did not bring enough to secure this treaty to a man worthy of such devotion!"

Gwen stopped, looking at him seriously. "Arthur desires peace more than anything. He was thrilled the day your first messenger arrived. What he offers in return, he does so in placing great value on the fact that you came to him. While the trade will greatly benefit Camelot, it is peace he ultimately seeks. Remember that in your negotiations."

Durstan nodded, understanding, as they continued. He understood what she was trying to say. For all his wealth, it was not gold which drove the King. "And Emrys?"

"Merlin," Gwen corrected automatically. Then blushed. "Forgive me. I meant no offense to your beliefs. But he is Merlin to us. Emrys was a name we'd heard only in whispers until Merlin's magic and true identity were discovered."

"Is it true He served as a manservant?" Durstan sounded upset by that. Gwen remembered the veneration in which Merlin had been greeted. "And was unkindly treated?"

Gwen knew she couldn't hesitate, or much would be lost. "It is true that he was rewarded with a position as Prince Arthur's manservant for saving his life. As I said, Arthur is not perfect. He was raised in difficult times by a difficult man. Youth is meant to be a time of mistakes, I believe, of learning." It was the most diplomatic answer she could give, but Durstan seemed to accept it.

"You're right, of course. I have made my own fair share of foolish mistakes in my youth. While raised by wonderful and loving parents, I was a third child by the time my oldest brother reached his eighth naming day, with another younger. There was very little expected of me. In our family, the oldest is heir unless proven unfit, and the youngest is birthed to lead our armies. I was, perhaps, a little overindulged."

"You mentioned your mother was heavy with child?" Gwen asked.

Durstan seemed to light up. "Indeed. She married again after my father died of the shaking sickness. My step father is a good man. We are all eager to meet the child, as another sibling is always welcomed." He leaned a little over to her. "I intend to spoil it severely."

Gwen laughed, a little sad, she realized, that they had reached the Feast Hall so soon. Arthur and Merlin were standing together, their heads together. Merlin was shaking his head over something, while Arthur seemed insistent. When they noticed their approach, however, both lit up in smiles to see them.

She could see Arthur take in their joined arms, their smiles, and arched his eyebrow in inquiry to her. Normally, he would escort her into the Hall, but she shook her head. She was quite content where she was. Arthur nodded.

Gwen saw Durstan frown when Merlin took up his normal place, a step behind Arthur's left shoulder, and they entered. She urged him forward, but made a mental note to mention it to Arthur later.

_**MERLIN1010110101010101010110MERLIN** _

Arthur was pleased when the Feast Hall was filled to its brim. Much of Durstan's staff had accepted his invitation and were mingling with his own servants and Knights. Laughter and conversation were almost loud enough to overcome the musicians working from the corner of the room. He frowned, a little, when he saw Gwaine getting a little too friendly with one of Durstan's female servants, though she did not seem to be objecting, and cast a quick glance at the visiting Prince.

Durstan caught his look, and laughed. "I do not know how it is in Camelot, Sire, but in Dumnonia we are free to choose our own bed partners, regardless of station or rank. My step father used to be our Harbor Master!" he assuaged. "There will no offense taken from the interests of your men, Sire, unless those attentions are undesired. That does not appear to be the case. In fact, I may offer some slight concern on behalf on your Knight. Irellen is a free spirit, and has her own mind."

Arthur laughed, relieved. "Then they are well matched. Sir Gwaine is a free spirit himself. He serves Camelot in his own, rather unique way. But we are lucky to have him." Merlin snorted. "There is no finer swordsman, besting perhaps even myself."

"Now _that_ , Sire, I would wager a fair amount to see," Durstan replied earnestly.

"You'll get such an opportunity. Arthur is arranging a Tournament to celebrate the Treaty Signing," Merlin spoke up. "I'm sure any of your Knights would be welcome to participate, should they wish to. I have heard there are no finer lancers than those of Dumnonia."

Durstan looked exceptionally pleased with the compliment, and Arthur felt his heart swell with pride. Merlin had resisted taking part in many formal occasions, citing his talents lay more in filling the cups of the decision makers rather than being one. Obviously his lover had picked up, in Durstan's profound greeting, that his role as Court Sorcerer was important to these proceedings.

"We would be pleased indeed! And what of the prize?"

Merlin opened his mouth, but Arthur broke in smoothly, shooting a wink at Gwen. "A token from the Queen Regent herself… perhaps even a kiss, should exceptional bravery be shown."

Gwen blushed, but then smiled. She knew Arthur, knew that he had noticed the attraction between her and the Prince. She accepted that this was, in his own way, a blessing.

Durstan placed his hand over his heart. "A prize beyond value indeed!" He looked up as his servant entered, and nodded. "And now, Sire, it would be my greatest pleasure to present to you the gifts we have brought to honor the good people of Camelot, and in thanks of your outstanding hospitality."

Arthur nodded. The doors on the far end opened, and in came a procession of chests and crates. "From every corner of our Kingdom, we have collected samples of the artistry, talent, and skill of our people. Spices from across the seas, oils and scents from all corners of the earth. Jewels from the mines of the Dessert people. And, of course, Salted Fish from our very own shores."

Merlin was surprised. No other visitor had ever brought so much. He thought he understood this was less about gifts as it was about demonstrating all that they would have access to for future trade. It left him wondering what being forced to accept them would end up costing Camelot in the trade agreement.

Arthur stood, appropriately, to observe each item as it was presented to him. When at last it was done, he put a hand to his heart. "Camelot is truly touched by the generosity of our friends near the sea, and we accept these gifts with humility and gratitude." There was a reserve to his voice, and Merlin knew he was wondering the same thing in long term costs.

Cheers went up through the room, and as they sat, festivities continued. Durstan, it turned out, was a shrewd man. "Do not fret, Sire. They are not a bribe. They are meant to whet the appetites of your people. It is understood that Camelot has not traded outside of the Five Kingdoms for generations." Durstan leaned closer to the King, lowering his voice. "And I have a very special, private gift for you, Sire, if I may be so bold. I bring it on the recommendation of my next older brother, Bursus, who insists he has brought many delights to his own Consort with this Oil. The oil itself comes from a land across the seas, and then Mint is allowed to steep in it for many months. It gives the oil a very special effect of stimulation and pleasure to the skin it touches."

It was everything Arthur could do not to blush as he accepted the box handed to him by the Prince. "Thank you, Prince Durstan, and extend our thanks to your brother."

"He says to warn you to test it on top of your lovers hand, first, in small amounts over three days. It is quite powerful and it will be important to note how much he may be sensitive to. The delicate skin on the hand provides an adequate test to how it may react on other delicate skin."

"There have been those in other Kingdoms not so accepting of my Consort, so for that alone, I thank you for the thoughtful gift."

Durstan shrugged. "Our trade and wealth, and general distaste for war, allows us to be an indulgent people, Sire. We pursue our pleasures with freedom and ease, whether that be crafting or the finer pleasures of good company. You will find our largest request of Camelot to be its fine wines and ales. Our own assortment of grains is limited, and often not enough to spare for such creations. This cider, for instance, is remarkable. The fragrance and flavor mix to create an entire experience with ones senses with each tasting. Ingenious use of a simple item! I may add that to our list!" Durstan laughed, accepting another refill on his cup.

"It's strange to hear that. Dumnonia's armies have long been spoken of in hushed fear," Arthur noted. "I have often heard from my father how you employ sorcerers as soldiers."

Durstan shot a hard glance at the King, but was appeased by the genuine curiosity on his expression. "While it is true that we have a distaste for war, we recognize the need to protect our allies, our lands, and our trade routes. Once there was a brief time in our history that magic was used so, but it ended with the death of the Marked King. For many of our people, magic is the essence of life. To take life with it in anything other than the most dire of circumstances is considered blasphemy."

Merlin paled, having been listening. He felt the words hit him squarely as if thrown, though a part of him knew there was no ill intent in them. Screams skittered in and out his hearing while a wall of fire pursued. He felt his hands begin to shake. He stood. "I hope you continue to enjoy the Feast, Prince Durstan. And welcome, once again, to Camelot. With your permission, I must excuse myself for the evening. The cider is a little stronger than I'm accustomed to."

Arthur frowned as he turned and left without waiting for them to answer. He looked over in alarm. "Gwen," he started, and she nodded, made her own apologies, and followed.

Durstan looked confused. "I meant no offense, especially to Emrys- Merlin."

Arthur shook his head. "There is no need to apologize. Merlin is a loving soul, ready to forgive anyone… except himself. What he has done has saved lives, each and every time- my own included. But that doesn't seem to make it easier for him to bear. Gwen will talk to him."

"For all of my people, he is a symbol of hope. He is the spark that will re-kindle the life balance across these torn lands, and the salve to heal the wounds of the past. Most of my people recognize the burden it must be to carry such a destiny," Durstan replied, sadly. "He is a man of great strength."

Arthur held up his goblet. "To Healing," he agreed.

_**MERLIN101010010101010MERLIN** _

Arthur sighed as he entered his chambers, unsurprised to find them empty. Turning, he next entered Merlin's. As soon as he entered, he saw Ian shift from his corner in the shadows to leave, and he was grateful. Turning back to the center of his focus, his heart shattered.

On the bed, Merlin was on his side, curled around a pillow, starring out the window. Arthur didn't hesitate to crawl in next to him, curling his own body protectively around Merlin's, resting his cheek against Merlin's ear, strong arms wrapping around and pulling the boy close to him. They said nothing for a long while as tears streamed silently down the younger man's face, eyes focused on the night sky beyond.

"Does it ever stop hurting?" Merlin asked, his voice low, quivering with all the pain he was trying to shove inside himself.

Arthur wanted badly to immediately reassure him. To let him know time would heal these wounds as well. But it was a lie he couldn't force himself to speak. Instead, he shook his head against the warlock. "You don't ever want it to," he answered. "When that happens, the war for your soul is lost."

"How do you do it?" Merlin whispered. Arthur closed his eyes against the agony in that simple question. This was not the first time Merlin had faced the darkness within himself. They had come so far since those awful days, it was hard to remember that Merlin still carried everything that led to them, still held onto it tightly.

"I hang on to the ones who mean the most to me. I remember what I'm saving."

"And that's enough?"

Arthur hesitated. "Sometimes."

"I'm tired, Arthur."

Arthur closed his eyes against the words that sprang to him. ' _Can I- I'm tired._ _Am I finished now? I have nothing left to pay with._ ' Words filled with longing under the influence of a truth drug. A desperate plea for an ending to all the younger man had suffered. Merlin remembered none of the conversation that had taken place in that cell, but Arthur would never forget. Arthur had been unable to grant the request- had been unable to let him die. While these moments were becoming rare over the months since then, they always left the King with a pang of guilt. But there was little comfort he could give.

"I know."


	4. Chapter 4

"Can't you speak to him?" Gwen insisted, walking quickly beside her King. "The Prince is beside himself with worry, fearing he's given great insult to Merlin. He's very upset."

Arthur scowled at her. "I've tried, Gwen. A hundred times, I have commanded, begged, yelled, and cajoled. Merlin keeps insisting there was no insult, that he's just been busy with the Tournament planning. Which, he really has been. With both of us locked up in last minute negotiations, someone had to put it all together, to greet the Knights as they arrived. I, for one, am pleased to see him taking the responsibilities of his rank seriously. I honestly never thought I'd see the day!"

"The Welcome Feast was two days ago. I myself have witnessed Merlin deliberately change direction several times during those days whenever I'm escorting the Prince."

Arthur shot her an amused glance. "You've been spending a lot of time with the Prince."

"Please don't change the subject, Arthur," Gwen chided, but he noticed her blush. She lowered her voice and leaned her head in closer to him. "Perhaps a quiet evening, just the two of you, could help persuade him to spend some time with the Prince?"

Arthur sighed. "I tried even that, Gwen. Last night I got as far as testing a little of the Prince's gift on his hand, made the mistake of bringing it up, and then he suddenly remembered he had to complete a last minute task and took off. I haven't seen him since."

"Gwaine thinks we should leave him be," Gwen bit her bottom lip. "That he must have his reasons, and reminded me the last Welcome Celebrations didn't go so well for him. Normally, I would agree and give him his space. It's just that Durstan places such a high value on Merlin's opinion. Do you-" she hesitated, but she had heard him say it often enough to accept it. "Do you sense anything from him? Like last time?"

Arthur shook his head immediately. "No, nothing like that. Mostly all I can sense is exhaustion. With the Signing tomorrow, and the Tournament to begin the day after, I would expect nothing less. We're all feeling the same, I wager. Believe me, Gwen, Gwaine is not the only one thinking of previous events. I'm keeping a close eye on him in my own way, and Ian reports his every move to me. He is genuinely simply very busy."

Gwen breathed a sigh of relief. "I am glad to hear it. I will try to convince Durstan. Try to reassure him that Merlin will make time for him after the Tournament. I don't pretend to understand fully, Arthur, but is it safe, for you, I mean? To stay so connected to him?"

"Since I never seen him, it's all I've got. I'll use it as I see a need. A friend once told me I need only respect it. Merlin is much more stable now than he was. I think it's safe enough. More of an instinct in the back of my mind." Arthur cast a sidelong glance at her. "And you? How have you been with all of this? I never did ask your permission for the Tournament Prize when I mentioned it, and I am sorry. It was clear, however, that a gold prize would have bored our visitor."

Gwen blushed again. "I am not displeased, Arthur. A little disappointed, actually, when I discovered _you_ were going to enter. There is no doubt of the winner."

Arthur laughed. "I appreciate your vote of confidence. I'm not so convinced. Merlin wasn't boasting. Dumnonian men are rumored to have lances in their cribs so that it is the first object they learn to hold. Merlin has made sure that only a small score will be awarded for sword work. I even accused him of conspiring with you," Arthur confessed.

Arthur watched as Gwen hung her head, blinking. He stopped them, putting his hands on her shoulders to turn her toward him. "Gwen, there is no loss of honor in memory to Lancelot for you to find happiness again. I believe with all my heart he would want that for you," he said gently.

She took a deep breath and nodded, offering him a quivering smile. "I know. I know that's what he would want. It's just… it's hard. It feels like it's been too long, and too soon all at once. Durstan makes me laugh, makes me feel like a woman again. But then, I find myself thinking of Lance. I can't help but compare them. It's the brown eyes, I think, the dark hair and skin. I always look for some small part of my Lance in Durstan. Lance's eyes were serious, and deep, and I could see in them every day how much he loved me. Durstan's eyes dance with mirth, with appreciation and with a natural mischief. They may look similar, but they are so different. It's silly, really."

Arthur hugged her. "It's not silly. It threw me, too, the first time we met, how similar they looked. Gwen, you need to know. If this is something you want, you need only come to me. We will find a way to make it work, Regency intact or not, will be your choice. All I want is for you to be happy."

Gwen hugged him back. "Thank you, Arthur."

_**MERLIN10101010101010MERLIN** _

Arthur smiled as he watched Gwen dance with their newest ally. Durstan had insisted this celebration feast be done in the style of his people, which involved less sit down entertainment and more music, with tables pushed back for dancing. His entourage had joined them again, teaching the nobility of Camelot some of the steps to the energetic dance.

It had been amusing to watch his Knights, master swordsmen all, flounder a bit. But the room rang with laughter, and he was pleased to see it. Gwen, of course, took to the steps like she had been born to them. Her face was flushed with pleasure and exertion.

Boris leaned over to fill his cup once more. Arthur waved him away without looking. He was feeling a little queasy this evening, and was going easy on the wine. Perhaps the long days had caught up to him. Boris cleared his throat, and Arthur finally took his eyes off the floor to look at him. Leon was making his way toward their table, oddly. The Knight had been having a good time before he'd changed directions.

Boris glanced over to Arthur's side, murmuring, "Master Merlin, Sire."

Arthur looked over, and his face softened. Merlin was asleep in the chair beside him, his dinner hardly touched. He leaned over and gave the shoulders a gentle shake. "Merlin," Arthur called, resisting the urge to scoop the younger man into his arms. His slow rousing indicated a rather deep sleep despite the awkward position.

"Hmmm? Oh! Arthur, I'm sorry," Merlin murmured as his eyes opened to take in his surroundings. He was flushed with embarrassment.

"It's all right. It's been a long few days. I'm told everything is set to run practically by itself tomorrow. You've done well," Arthur answered with a smile. He raised his hand to cup the younger man's cheek, eager to touch. He frowned, moving his hand to his forehead. "You're a little warm. Are you feeling all right?"

Merlin nodded, his eyes fluttering, fighting to stay open. "I'm fine. Just… so tired, Arthur."

Arthur opened his mouth to say more, but those blue eyes had closed again. He looked around for Ian, and found him just returning to the hall.

"Sire," Leon greeted as he came up behind them. "I saw he was asleep and came to offer my services. I know he's been pushing himself hard the last couple of days."

"You're a good friend, Leon." Arthur nodded, knowing it would be rude to leave his guests just yet. "He's exhausted. I doubt he can walk back to his chambers."

Leon nodded, bending to easily pick up the warlock. "I will see him safely there."

Ian moved from his spot behind them, following the Knight as he took his charge out the exit behind the main table. Arthur saw Gwen and Durstan watching them with concern, but smiled and waved them to keep going. The fact that he had let Leon take him should be proof enough that it wasn't serious, or he would have left as well. Gwen knew that.

He relaxed back into his own seat, deciding to dig into his own dinner. If Merlin was so tired he hadn't been eating much, it occurred to him that the slight nauseous feelings he'd been experiencing weren't his. He'd been instinctively maintaining contact with the Bond for days in order to watch for signs things weren't going well for Merlin. The extreme exhaustion had been all that had been screaming at him of late, so he'd learned to push it back a little. He did the same now, knowing Merlin was safe with one of his most trusted Knights.

After a few bites, he let one of Durstan's servants pull him up and out onto the floor to teach him to dance. He would have refused, but Durstan had made it clear that a long night of dancing before a Tournament was tradition among his people. A true test of stamina, apparently. By tomorrow, half of the participants who had signed up would disqualify themselves in jolly mirth, stating old age, or a particularly robust woman who had worn them completely. It was, apparently, a graceful outing for those too proud not to sign up, but too aged or infirm to truly be able to compete any longer.

It was very late by the time he collapsed into his own bed, delightfully tired and sore for all his movement. He was just contemplating adding the tradition to Camelot's Tournaments when he fell asleep.

_**MERLIN1010101010110MERLIN** _

"Excellent round, Sire," Boris complimented as soon as Arthur entered his tent. His manservant went to work in removing his armor as Leon, Elyan, and Percival entered. Durstan was just a moment behind them, glowing. His had been the last round before the noon break, and a small feast had been prepared in another tent for participants.

"That was… truly your reputation is not a boasted one, Arthur!"

"Thank you, Durstan," Arthur beamed. "I look forward to this afternoon's lance events. I am eager to pit myself against your men. It has been some time since I've faced an opponent across the bar I haven't previously gone up against!"

Boris frowned, frustrated. "Sire, is there something wrong with your hand?" he grabbed at it again when Arthur unconsciously shook it.

Arthur shook his head, grinning. "Nervous habit, to keep moving. Merlin learned to move with me. You will too." He was always physically charged after a successful round. "Where _is_ Merlin?"

Gwen entered then, all proud smiles for him. Noticing the frustration of his new manservant, she gently inserted herself and grabbed his arm, accustomed to his post battle need to continue moving. "I haven't seen him all morning, Arthur. He's likely around somewhere, looking after the details."

Arthur nodded. He grinned at his other Knights. "Leon, you're first up against Durstan, aren't you?"

The Knight nodded. "I am! After seeing his men in the sword ring, I'm beginning to think I should have taken the honorable excuse of the dance," he laughed.

Durstan burst out laughing, clapping the man on the shoulder. Arthur smiled, watching the camaraderie. Gwen's teasing her brother about the lady he'd been escorting last night, Percival making fun of Leon's attempts to dance… he let it all wash over him.

Servants came in then with platters of food for this small group for a private dining. Merlin had made sure they could get some privacy for their break. A tradition brought about, secretly, to prevent certain Knights from overindulging during the break. Unnecessary this time as Gwaine had chosen to take his break with Irellen. Conversation quickly turned to mixed boasting, teasing, and mutual admiration. He couldn't help but miss the snarky presence of his lover, always quick to bring them all down a few notches when the boasting got too loud.

Suddenly, Arthur grunted, frowning down at his arm, discovering he'd been absently shaking his hand. He flexed his fingers in and out of a fist to be rid of the odd sensations, but nothing worked. He learned forward as a sharpness traveled up his arm.

"Sire?"

Arthur cried out, driven to his knees, grabbing his arm as shocks of pain ran up it. It felt as though someone were stabbing his hand and dragging the knife up his arm over and over again. He gasped for breath, feeling suddenly like he couldn't get enough. The edge he'd been living on for days surged up to grab him, pulling him in.

"Arthur!" Gwen was kneeling next to him, at a loss as Arthur closed his eyes, crying out again in agonizing pain. "What's wrong? Someone get the Physician!"

"No!" Arthur cried, turning to grab her hand. She, and the Knights, gasped. Arthur's eyes were completely black. "No, it's not me. Gwen, it's _him_."

Gwen paled as she understood. "Arthur, can you… do you know where he is?"

Arthur shook his head. He drew in a breath, then let it out through clenched teeth, trying to control the sudden courses of torment. "No. I can't see through the pain. There's so much…"

Gwen saw Prince Durstan sink to his knees, his hands held out as if in reverence toward the King. "You are Soul Bound!" he whispered wonderingly, his eyes wide in understanding. He bowed then, touching his forehead to the ground. He immediately began whispered a prayer.

She turned to the Knights. "Find Merlin! _Now_!" She didn't watch them leave, turning back to her King. "Arthur, you need to let go."

"No!" he denied viciously. "Not until I know… AHH!" He didn't dare let go of his connection with the Bond. The pain was unbearable, but as long as he could feel even this echo of it- he shuddered to think what Merlin was actually experiencing- he knew his lover was alive. He'd been a fool to dismiss the exhaustion, the nausea, the dizziness he'd been shoving away for the last two days!

"Arthur, please!" Gwen pleaded, her fear clear in her expression. "Your eyes… you're too deep." But she knew, even as she asked, that it was useless. That Merlin was in trouble and this was Arthur's only connection to the warlock. For all his features were twisted with the strain of what he was feeling, Arthur would not let go until he knew his lover was safe. She set her mouth resolutely. "Then make use of it. Push through it, Arthur. _Find_ him!" she commanded. She knew he could. He'd done it before, from much farther away.

Arthur nodded, hearing her command. He closed his eyes again, breathed through the waves of pain. He concentrated on the part of the bond that was Merlin's sense of life. He groaned as another wave tried to push him back, and fought his way through it. ' _Where?_ ' he demanded of the bond. He felt it try, felt it fail to know anything other than pain. He felt a slight shifting, then. Not like before, not a sense of direction, but felt the bond give him access to something it had only once before. Merlin's magic flowed into him, and through the Bond, he let it sense his need. _Find him_ , he commanded it urgently. _Time is short. Find him_.

Gwen gasped when a ball of blue light appeared over them. She looked back to Arthur to see him looking at her, his eyes no longer black but burning gold with borrowed magic. "Follow it," he nodded to it when it bobbed, then left the tent. "It will find him."

She didn't hesitate. She turned to the Prince, still on his knees in prayer. "Look after him," she ordered as she sprang to her feet, then ran after the ball.

Arthur gave another cry as she left, let the waves crash over him now that his need was met. He felt the borrowed power slip away from him, and he gasped for breath. As he had last time, he marveled at the idea of living every day with that overwhelming sense of raw power, of being connected to _everything_. His admiration for his lover increased. That kind of power… the temptations it must provide… he was beginning to understand why his father had been convinced it was inevitable to be corrupted by such a thing.

"Arthur?" Durstan asked tentatively. He had risen immediately, unable to deny the sharp command in Gwen's voice. He felt embarrassed for his inaction, but a Soul Bond was rare and of great reverence to his people. Mentioned only in songs and stories of days long passed. There had not been a living Bond in many generations. "She's right. You're in too deep. You _must_ let go."

"I need to know-"

"You can't help him if you remain incapacitated yourself!" Durstan interrupted firmly, grabbing a hold of Arthur's shoulders when the King tried to curl into himself through another wave of pain. "Arthur!"

Arthur hesitated, but then nodded. He couldn't deny the reason in that steady voice. Having been in constant contact with their bond for days, it was harder to push it back, to draw himself out of it. It took a physical effort it never had before. He gritted his teeth as another wave tried to push him farther in.

Durstan frowned when Arthur cried out again. "They _will_ find him! You know what you're feeling is just an echo!" the Prince urged. "He needs you!"

Arthur tried again to pull away. He waited for the next wave to wash over him, then gathered all his strength, physically throwing himself back. He gasped as the edges of the last wave hit him, without the buffer of the Bond to protect him. He vaguely heard himself scream as darkness engulfed him.


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur groaned as he turned to the refreshing coolness he could feel on his forehead. His head was pounding in tandem with his heartbeat. Every muscle in his body was screaming at him that he'd over done it.

"Shhhh, Arthur, rest easy," a voice soothed. He couldn't quite place it, though it rang with familiarity. He wanted nothing more than to return to sleep. What had he done that-

Arthur's eyes flew open and he shot up. He remembered. Knew why everything hurt. He had to get up. Had to- he struggled against the hands seeking to keep him seated. "Let me go! I have to- Artemis?" He stopped as his foggy mind finally registered what his eyes were seeing. "What are you doing here?"

The old druid chuckled. "I came to visit a friend. Imagine my surprise when I found him unconscious."

"What- it doesn't matter. We have to find Merlin!"

"He's been found," Artemis soothed. Arthur noted the older man was stronger than his frame suggested. "He's in his chambers. Your physician is seeing to him. Now, care to tell me what's happened?"

Arthur groaned, letting his head drop into his hands. "I'm not sure. I had just finished my round in the tournament… the tournament!"

"Has been going just fine all afternoon, Arthur. Prince Durstan managed to get you here without too much notice, then returned. He didn't think you'd want anyone to put off the celebrations," Artemis explained. "It should be ending for the day very soon, if it hasn't just."

Arthur took a deep breath, reaching for the cup of water on his night table. Artemis took it from him, sprinkled some herbs in it, then handed it back with a smile. Arthur drank, grimacing at the taste, but his trust in the man was absolute. He had saved Merlin's life when they'd met. "Thank you. You said Ambros was seeing to Merlin?"

Artemis couldn't hide the twist of his mouth as he nodded. "He is. He has shut the boy in the room and refused entry to all, threatening it would endanger his health if he were interrupted. Ian- in the employ of Emrys , I assume?- is pacing the hall between your rooms, frantic with worry."

Arthur frowned. Already the herbs were helping to clear his head ache, easing the aches and pains of his muscles. "Why wouldn't Ambros let Ian in? He's Merlin's servant."

"I don't know. How about you get dressed and we shall see if Ambros believes his authority is greater than yours?" Artemis suggested casually. Arthur knew from the tone the man had already tried to see Merlin and been denied. A fact he was obviously displeased with.

Nodding, Arthur began to gather his clothes. "It is good to see you," he spoke as he moved.

"And you, Arthur. Though, I must confess, I am concerned by the state I found you in. Prince Durstan was quite clear in what had caused your condition. Being of the older Druid lines, he was a wealth of knowledge on a Soul Bond- once I could get him to stop praying. What you did was foolish and dangerous," Artemis scolded.

Arthur stopped for a moment, shaking his head. "You don't know what happened the last time we had feasts like this. It was important to watch him the only way I could. The pain- it was so sudden. I had become so used to this bundle of exhaustion in the back of my mind…" Arthur trailed off, giving himself a shake, returning to dressing. "Artemis, I can't begin to describe it."

There was a loud knocking at his door, though Ian didn't wait for Arthur to call entry before he came in, closing the door behind him. He looked concerned and very agitated. Arthur had never seen the normally poised and calm servant so out of sorts. "Sire! You're awake!"

"So it appears," Arthur answered dryly. "What's the matter, Ian? I'm preparing to see Ambros now, and I'll make sure he knows you're to be permitted entry."

Ian shook his head. "Sire, I don't wish to speak out of turn, but I am very concerned. Something isn't right."

Arthur straightened. "What do you mean? Speak your mind, Ian."

"Sire, the Queen found Lord Merlin unconscious in the Garden. With everything happening today, he shouldn't have been Training. There was no reason for him to be anywhere near it. The last I saw of him was this morning. He woke feeling unwell. He sent me with duties to make sure the visiting Knights were all looked after, and said he would join me after he visited Ambros."

Arthur frowned. "He strongly dislikes Ambros. He's never willingly gone to see him. He'll go to one of the Druids in the Market first. There are a few druids that have taken up small healing practices here in Camelot," he explained to Artemis.

Ian nodded. "Yes, Sire. If he felt anywhere close to how he looked, I suspect 'unwell' was a bit of an understatement." Arthur snorted. Ian ignored it. "I wouldn't have thought anything of it, except one of the visiting Knights happened to make a joke of the Court Sorcerer being unable to hold his Feast Drink, and had been seen being carried by a guard from Ambros' chambers. Even that, I dismissed as gossip, knowing Lord Merlin doesn't indulge much, as he doesn't like the potential to lose control. But Sire, that was several _hours_ before your own collapse. It is my belief he was deliberately placed in the Garden since that entire area would be all but abandoned with the Tournament. And when the Lady Gwen first had him brought to his Chambers, he was unconscious but still. Ambros gave him something immediately before he even properly examined him. He had just started to scream when the Physician forced us out of the room… "

Artemis and Arthur were both moving for the door before he'd finished, the King pausing only to grab his sword. Ian followed immediately, and was not surprised when the guards at Merlin's door took one look at Arthur's face and stepped aside, despite the fact he knew they were under orders to keep him out, too.

Arthur threw open the door to Merlin's chamber. He saw Ambros leaning over his lover, having just finished pouring a jar of something into his mouth. "What are you doing?" he demanded of the Physician. Artemis moved around him to go to Merlin's side even as Ambros moved toward the King, giving a quick bow.

"Sire, his fever is quite high. I must insist that having so many in the room is not good for him," Ambros replied smoothly.

"What's wrong with him?" Arthur demanded, taking a step closer to the bed. He couldn't see much between Ambros in front of him and Artemis and Ian fussing over Merlin.

"Simply a case of over working himself, Sire. If you would allow me to continue to administer my remedies, he should be fine in a day or so."

"Arthur," Artemis called, looking up at the King, his expression grave. "He's been poisoned."

Arthur had his sword to the Physician's throat as soon as the words registered, rage filling him. The slight look of panic that had crossed Ambros's features with the druid diagnosis had been confirmation enough for him. "What have you done?"

"Sire! Surely I have cared for the people of Camelot sufficient to be beyond suspicion," Ambros objected. "I assure you, a few days of rest, and the Prince Consort will be well again."

Arthur glanced at Artemis, seeing the druid give him a slight shake of his head. It was enough for him. "I will ask only one more time, Ambros, and then I will let my questioners get the answers from you. What have you done?"

The Physician dropped the pretense then. His features twisted in hate. "His influence over Camelot must be stopped at all costs. Even that of my life. He is a traitor to his kind. Protecting Pendragon scum!" Ambros spat. "It doesn't matter. I have fed him enough of the compound to insure him an agonizingly slow but inevitable death. The Once and Future King cannot succeed without Emrys at his side. By removing one, I have guaranteed the failure of the other. The fall of Camelot is at hand."

Artemis shook his head, looking horrified. "You great fool!" he whispered.

"That answer's why, not what," Arthur growled. He waved the guards into the room. His sword arm was beginning to shake with the desire to run the man in front of him through.

"It was simple enough," Ambros gloated. "A mixture of herbs designed to make him ill enough to see me. The final piece of the puzzle to be delivered in several doses. His stubbornness forced me to administer too much, too quickly. But the effect should still be the same. You can torture me all you like. I was never made aware of the exact ingredients, only that they were rare and not found in any of the Five Kingdoms. I can, however, assure you that there is no cure," Ambros finished, smiling cruelly as Merlin cried out from the bed, his recent dose beginning to take effect. "If you truly care for him, you'll kill him quickly."

"Take him to the cells," Arthur growled through clenched teeth at the guards. "Find out who his conspirators are, and make sure to get samples of this compound he's speaking of. And bring me Prince Durstan!"

The guards leapt to obey, and Arthur moved toward the bed. Merlin was writhing, crying out occasionally in pain, and Arthur remembered the sensation of waves. The boy was soaked through with sweat, shirtless now to try and cool every part they could reach. He looked hopefully at Artemis. "Is there anything you can do?"

Artemis hesitated. "I believe I can relieve some of the pain, but without knowing what the poisons were, I'm hesitant to give him anything else. We don't know how anything will react. You can see his hand was the original point of administration." He held it up, showing Arthur the angry red spot on top of Merlin's hand. Tiny veins of red spread from the initial area, moving up his arm.

Arthur rose and got a vial of the mint oil he'd been gifted from Durstan. "I believe this may be part of the combination."

Artemis took to stopper off, smelling it. His eyes widened. "No, Arthur. Prince Durstan would never-"

"That rash is where Durstan kissed his hand the day he arrived. Merlin was unwell that afternoon, and never quite recovered. Then, Durstan gave me that oil as a gift, encouraging me to test it on his hand three times. We only accomplished it the once, though there is more missing so he may have continued to try it himself. Someone provided Ambros these tools. Durstan is the only one to come to Camelot from outside the Five Kingdoms," Arthur argued. "I like him too, but the evidence is overwhelming."

Artemis shook his head. "You don't understand the reverence Durstan has for Emrys. He is simply not capable of such an action against him. To us, Emrys is hope. But to those ancient Druid bloodlines, it is a religion unto itself. Such an act would be a blasphemy the Prince could not consider."

"Artemis, I _am_ sorry. I have no choice."

Just then, Prince Durstan entered, looking confused by his escort of Guards. Arthur wasn't at all surprised to see Gwen with him, and his heart ached for the pain he was about to cause her. The Prince's eyes first landed on Artemis, and he grinned, but then his eyes traveled to the form on the bed, and his expression turned to one of concern.

Arthur had to admit, when he added the obvious veneration of the Prince when meeting Merlin, his upset that the warlock had avoided him, and the reaction of prayer to the discovery of their Bond made him doubt his own perception of the evidence. He remembered all too clearly the last time Merlin had been poisoned. Then, it had been Arthur who had been the intended target- he'd thought, he'd since discovered it had been Merlin all along- and Uther had put the entire new treaty with Bayard at risk by imprisoning all the visitors from Mercia. They'd almost gone to war over it.

Could he risk this treaty as easily? Was Durstan sincere or simply that good in his deception? It was hard to believe, since the Prince seemed like such a genuine individual, free with his emotions.

"Arthur, what's going on?" Gwen asked, jarring him from his thoughts. "Has- Is Merlin all right? Ambros wouldn't let us in."

Arthur took a deep breath. No. He was not his father. "He's been poisoned. Ambros was part of a conspiracy to kill him." He watched Durstan's face closely. Watched it drain of color, watched him stumble back as he took in the meaning of the guards' presence. He was putting it all together very quickly, but he'd proven himself intelligent on more than one occasion. "Apparently, there are some magic users who feel Merlin is a Traitor to their kind for his years protecting me, and my father. They also believe that by killing him, they will cripple me," Arthur continued.

Durstan fell to his knees, tears coming down his cheeks. Gwen looked horrified, and torn. She wanted to believe in the Prince's innocence automatically, but couldn't escape the thought that Arthur wouldn't have made the accusations lightly.

"The poisons were delivered in a series of dosages. The ingredients delivered to the Court Physician, which cannot be found in the Five Kingdoms. Merlin was sick the day you arrived, Durstan, after you kissed his hand. Then the oil you gifted me…" Arthur trailed off.

Durstan was shaking his head. If Arthur hadn't known better, he would swear the man looked devastated and heart broken. "Not I, Sire," the Prince answered softly. "The oil was a gift from my brother, Bursus. The day we left, it was also Bursus who gave me a jar of the balm."

Gwen looked confused. "What balm?"

"We live by the ocean, Your Grace. The wind and salt can dry the skin, especially the lips. We use a grease with herbs as a barrier. I had forgotten mine, in my excitement. Bursus laughed, called me predictable, and tossed me one of his." He paled. "I applied some just before arriving, wanting to make the best impression." He put his fingers to his lips. "Bursus would have known my reaction to meeting Emrys."

Artemis frowned. "Your brother is not familiar enough with Camelot to know that the Consort would be presented that afternoon."

Arthur frowned, looking at the druid. "You _know_ Prince Durstan?"

Artemis nodded. "Dumnonia has long been friend to magic kind, Arthur. I have been welcomed there often for trade, and to bring news."

Arthur sighed as it all came together for him. "It was you who encouraged the contact for peace," Arthur breathed. The first message had arrived only a month after Artemis had helped Merlin through their darkest time.

Durstan shook his head, his tears coming faster now. "I cannot think Bursus, who knows me so well, knows I am a True Follower, would use me to commit such an act of sacrilege. But... But it's well known that Emrys is never far from the King's side. It would have only been a matter of time." Durstan frowned. "There must have been another element. Otherwise anything too strong in the Balm would have endangered me. Even combined with the oil. Was he given anything else?"

"Ambros was giving him something," Arthur slowly replied, feeling he was satisfactorily convinced of Durstan's innocence. His reactions were sincere, and the struggle to push beyond the hurt of a close betrayal too clear. The flinch every time Merlin cried out also helped convince him. "We don't know what. He did mention having to give too much, too fast."

Durstan frowned, shaking his head in frustration. "I don't know. I confess, the study of plants was never a particular interest to me. With the trade- it could be anything." He took a deep, steady breath and looked to Arthur. "I will accept your punishment, King Arthur. Dumnonia has committed a grievous act of treason against Camelot, and against the Treaty we just signed."

Arthur hesitated. Gwen and Artemis were both looking to him, understanding this decision was his, and his alone. Both had trepidation on their faces, but also encouragement. They would support him. He remembered a promise he had given the old druid. That the actions of all would not be held responsible for the actions of one.

"Durstan, will you swear to me on the peace between our Kingdoms, and on the lives that a war will cost, that you had nothing to do with this plot?" Arthur asked seriously. Rage was not the answer here. It would accomplish nothing, and he could almost hear Merlin's voice in his ear, whispering it wasn't worth a war.

Durstan nodded. "I swear it. And I will personally question every member of my staff. _Someone_ delivered that potion to your Physician. One of my entourage is a traitor. I _will_ discover who." The Prince hesitated. "I want peace between our Kingdoms, Sire. And I will obey from now until the Eternity Beyond as a servant to you, subject to your will, whim, and command. All that I am now belongs to you, by the Light that Emrys may shine on my soul and the darkness that dwells without His presence."

Durstan bowed forward from his kneeling position, as he had earlier in the tent. Arthur glanced at Artemis, who nodded. "There is no stronger oath for his people, Arthur. What powers he controlled in Dumnonia are now yours to command, including those he holds in court. It is no small thing he has done."

Arthur nodded solemnly. "Then I accept."


	6. Chapter 6

Arthur ran the cloth over the increasing heat coming from the younger man. Artemis had done all he could to ease the pain. Merlin had stopped crying out just the day before, and Arthur could only hope that his suffering had been lessened. He was mostly still now, moving only in response to the increasing fever. Twice he had convulsed, which had frightened Arthur more than he was willing to admit. The second fit more so because it had taken too long for his lover to draw another breath when it had ended.

Artemis had warned him severely against using the Bond again, and despite that, Arthur had been tempted many times. While Merlin remained unconscious, the picture of that morning three days ago was still unclear. Ambros had broken easily, had confessed all he had known- which was disappointingly little.

Durstan had been true to his word, interrogating every member of his staff. He had accepted the permanent presence of a Knight of Camelot with him at all times, and made no complaint when Arthur had confiscated the horses to make sure none attempted escape during the questioning. So far, two members had been arrested. It was disheartening to hear their rantings so similar to those of Ambros. One had been Irellen, which had broken Durstan's spirit. She had been serving his house for over a decade. He had thought her to be a True Follower, as he called those who served the Prophecy. Gwaine had been angry, too, though he made no move to defend her. Hurt to Merlin was probably the only real sin that existed for the Knight, and the most unforgivable.

The biggest loss, Arthur felt, was that of Gwen's trust for the visiting Prince. Their romance had all but ended the day Durstan confessed his brother was likely the mastermind. He sighed.

"It's a mess, Merlin. I don't know what to do. I've avoided war- I know you wouldn't want that. But I need your voice right now," Arthur whispered. He often talked to his lover, hoping his voice would bring about a rare occasion of semi-consciousness. "I wish Gaius were here. I'm sure he'd know how to fix this."

Artemis could offer nothing more than the easing of Merlin's discomfort. He didn't say as much, but Arthur could see it in his eyes each time the druid examined him. Merlin was dying. Slowly. Horribly. Dying. As had been promised. The once delicately fair skin was now ashen and clammy.

It was the little things that got to Arthur as the days went on. It was watching the frame, always too thin to sustain much loss, yet again lose what little it had possessed, wasting into frailty. It was watching silken locks turn limp no matter how often the King washed them. The most terrifying of all, was wondering whether the screams had stopped because the pain had, or if it was because the ever weakening body lacked the breath to continue them.

The fever was killing the warlock, but there was a part of Arthur that felt it was the only proof he still lived. The younger man's chest moved just barely now, and the King often spent his visits with his hand on it, just to feel it going up and down, hating himself for being grateful that grating wheeze.

"Merlin, you've got to fight this," Arthur begged, running the cloth along the boys' bare arms. Tears leaked from his eyes unchecked. "I can't- you know I wouldn't survive losing you. I know you. I know you've got reserves of strength most couldn't dream of calling on." Arthur huffed a laugh. "Everyone else has all but given up on you. But we both know that's when you're at your best. You take great pleasure in proving us all wrong." He took a breath. "On proving _them_ all wrong. I can't bring myself to give up. Not yet. Not after everything we've come through, and survived. Hear me, Merlin, in that way you always do. Don't go. I _need_ you."

Arthur thread his fingers delicately through Merlin's unbandaged fingers, stroking them with his thumb. "Please, Merlin," he whispered, imploring the young warlock. "Please."

_**MERLIN10101010101010MERLIN** _

"There _has_ to be something!" Arthur raged at the man, pacing the room he'd all but locked himself in for days. "He's the hope of your people, you said! You _can't_ just let him die!"

Artemis shook his head sadly. "There is nothing more I can do, Arthur. We have tried all there is to try."

"You can't expect me to just accept that?" Arthur growled. He stood straighter, making a decision. "I'm going in."

"Arthur, you cannot! Using the Bond now could kill you both," Artemis insisted. "If _you_ die, everything he's sacrificed, everything he's suffered through, was for nothing!"

Arthur whirled in anger, flinging a hand to the still figure on the bed. "And if he dies, everything I am dies with him!" He sucked in a shaky breathe. "Artemis, you have to understand, he is _everything_ that is good and honest about me. Without him, there is only darkness. You know it's true- you've seen the edges of it before. Now, you can leave me to fumble around on my own, or you can _help me_. Either way, I refuse to sit here and watch any longer!"

Durstan stood quietly in the corner, watching the stand off between the two powerful men. Glancing at Gwen, standing beside him, he saw the fear on her face as she looked between them and Merlin. She knew both King and Sorcerer well. Knew the future that would come with the loss of either one.

For himself, he had found a deep respect for the Once and Future King. In the genuine adoration of his people, Durstan had found a ruler he _wanted_ to be allies with in truth. He was a skilled enough Trade Master to recognize mutual benefits to both Kingdoms. Finding the culprits hadn't eased the guilt he felt for the betrayal of his brother. It had, still, been _him_ who introduced this threat to Camelot. He took a deep breath. He owed it to them to offer anything he could.

"There may be a way," he spoke, quietly. He felt three sets of eyes swivel to him, and adjusted his stance uncomfortably. There was anger and blame in Arthur's eyes, confusion in Gwen's, and Artemis- the old druid simply closed his, shaking his head, as though knowing what he was going to say. "The Crystal Cave. It is said to be the origin of magic. It may offer insight, or maybe even give his magic a healing boost," he finished.

Arthur blinked at him, then clapped his hands. Of course! Why hadn't he thought of it? Memories flashed through his mind of another lifetime seen through Merlin's eyes. "See? Now _that's_ an action! Gwen, instruct-"

"No one knows where the Caves are, Sire," Artemis pointed out in objection, though it sounded weak to all of them.

"I do. It's not too far from the Valley of Fallen Kings, if my memory is correct."

"Arthur!" Artemis rebuked. " _Look_ at him! You cannot possibly think Merlin would survive the trip? Not in his condition! And Emrys is deeply connected to those Crystals. They would overwhelm him in seconds without conscious barriers! It is a dangerous place for him even at his best!"

Arthur looked at the druid, his expression determined, but lined with pain. "Artemis, in my years I've learned many lessons on respecting magical hints and omens, so I will believe your answer." Arthur took a deep breath. His next question was gambling a large amount on a hunch. "Can you _swear_ to me he will survive if we do nothing?" He'd long suspected Artemis was on the Council of Elders because he had some ability as a Seer. 

Artemis hesitated, but Arthur was right. Tenuous treaties were in place with Magic, with the Old Religion. A lie now would undo it all. He shook his head, his eyes haunted. "I cannot." He seemed to age in front of them, spreading his hands. "Arthur, this was not done by accident. Something comes. Since Durstan's arrival here I continue to see only two ends. I see Camelot flourishing. I see you as High King of Albion. And, I also see a desolate city, long abandoned, and empty. I see war, famine and great loss of life. But I cannot see the paths that lead to each. It is as though both exist at once. The paths are hidden as though not yet made."

Arthur's expression softened as he placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "But the paths _are_ clear, Artemis. I cannot be High King if he dies. Not only by the words of your own Prophecy," he looked at Gwen, an apology in his eyes for the truth he was about to speak, "but also because my last breath would not be long in following his."

Gwen blinked back tears at the confession, but she nodded, accepting. Perhaps before there may have been a chance for Arthur to be shored up and guided by those around him to survive- but that chance ended a year ago. "I'll go begin preparations, Sire," she said resolutely. She wanted to make sure Arthur knew she supported him, she loved them both, and she would bear this burden with him. She gave him a deep curtsy, showing her respect for his decision.

Arthur watched her leave, stunned, but appreciating her gesture. This was a risk. And she would be here, be Camelot's strength, for as long as he needed. He looked to the Visiting Prince. "Prince Durstan, I would beg your forgiveness in my departure during your visit."

Durstan bowed. "None needed, Your Majesty. I will give notice to my people to leave within the hour. I would request that I be permitted to stay? At least until you return? I have written to my mother requesting that Bursus be subject to Camelot's justice for his actions. I feel I should be here to support the Queen Regent should you not have returned when he arrives."

Surprised, Arthur nodded. "Of course." Durstan bowed again, leaving the room. The King hesitated, but finally turned to his friend. "Artemis-"

"I know you don't do this lightly, Arthur. I wish I had more counsel to give you." The druid hesitated, then withdrew a vial from his pocket. "I will give you this. Give it to him when you arrive at the Cave, but before you enter. It will revive him temporarily. It may be enough to give him a chance to create a barrier between his own mind and the power of the cave."

Arthur took it, frowning. "If you can revive him-"

"It's dangerous, Arthur, painful, and very unlikely he would ever wake again after using it. It was to be a gift to you, once there was no hope. A good bye I felt you both deserved this time."

Arthur blinked back tears. He couldn't help but feel a swell of panic. Was he doing the right thing? Merlin had, now, the opportunity for the rest he had requested. The future would be full of challenges, of further loss. Merlin had often spoken of his fear that while he could be killed, he did not seem to age. Arthur had been unable to say anything, merely holding the man that was his life closely to him. Once pointed out, Arthur thought Merlin might be right. Almost a decade since their first meeting, and Merlin still looked like the sixteen year old boy who had challenged him that first day. Except his eyes. His eyes had seen too much. There was a great sadness and wisdom in eyes that did not seem to belong on so young a face. The combination of the two made it nearly impossible to accurately determine his age if you didn't know better.

"I don't believe Emrys would want this death, Arthur," Artemis said softly. "Not any more."

Arthur forced a laughed. "Are you a mind reader, too?"

"Your pain is easy to see, and it's not difficult to see where your thoughts are. I was there, the day he asked for it, remember?" Artemis sighed. "There is much risk in what you are about to undertake. Not only to him, but to yourself as well. You must remember the Bond is a tool to be respected, and wielded only when needed. Be confident in your knowledge, Arthur. There is no part of him that you don't know. You must trust yourself. Trust him."

Arthur nodded. He glanced at his lover again. "We have to do this alone, don't we?" Now that he'd made the decision, he felt it settle on him. This was the right path. But he couldn't risk anyone else knowing the location of the Caves. The last year had proven to him just how few he could sincerely trust with so great a secret.

Artemis didn't answer. He knew he didn't need to.

_**MERLIN10101010101010101MERLIN** _

Arthur took a deep, relieved breath when the Cave came into sight. He'd pushed the horses as hard as he'd dared, especially considering his was carrying two. A part of him was grateful Merlin had remained unconscious for the few days travel. Arthur had rarely stopped, and the ride had been hard enough that even he was sore.

With Merlin pressed firmly against his chest, he was able to feel the boys breathing. Feel how shallow and slow it was as the journey continued. He could feel the raging heat against in own skin. He'd forgone his chainmaille in favor of his Hunting clothes. He suspected no amount of armor would protect him if he lost this particular battle.

He put his mouth next to Merlin's ear. "Hang on. We're here. Hang on just a little longer."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Graphic Slashy goodness ahead! Firm! Arthur! Fair warning!
> 
> MERLIN1010101010101010MERLIN

Arthur hesitated. Merlin had begun to stir once they'd gotten close to the Cave entrance. Was it possible the power was already affecting him? In the hour it had taken Arthur to set up a camp, however, he hadn't woken. His fever seemed to lessen, and his breathing had become a little stronger. Was it relief being offered, or the beginning of the end?

What effect would the potion in his hand have? Artemis had warned him it was dangerous. But, he'd also made it very clear Merlin couldn't go near the Cave without some sort of mental barriers. Those memories which had lead him here remembered being overwhelmed immediately, remembered feeling pulled into a million pieces as his power stretched to meet its origin.

Gritting his teeth, Arthur poured the potion into Merlin's mouth, using his fingers to massage the boys' throat to swallow it, as Gaius had shown him long ago. Then he sat back and waited.

It was near dark when Merlin stirred, his movements slowly progressing through the stages of consciousness. When he finally moaned his arrival to the final stage of awareness, Arthur was kneeling beside him in a moment with a cup of a broth Artemis had said would give him strength.

"Shhhh, easy Merlin. Take some. Yes. Good," Arthur soothed as he held his lovers head steady to drink, then gently set it back down once Merlin was finished. He was rewarded when those beautiful blue eyes flickered, then finally opened. He took deep breath. He hadn't seen those eyes in too long. "Hey," he whispered with a relieved smile.

"Arthur?"

"Always," the King couldn't resist teasing. "You deserve to see only the best, after all."

Merlin snorted, and Arthur's heart soared in relief. "What happened?"

"You were poisoned. You're, uh," Arthur started, his voice cracking, forcing him to clear his throat. "You're actually pretty sick, Merlin." Arthur had his hand on Merlin's brow, using his thumb to stroke the still heated skin on it.

"Ah. Dying again. Getting bored of this," Merlin teased with a half-smile. He couldn't hide the tension that followed, however, as he bit his bottom lip, allowing only a small grunt to escape them.

"Are you in pain?"

Merlin closed his eyes. "A little," he confessed. Arthur knew enough to translate, and winced himself. "But, it's more than that… where are we? My magic is… _humming_. It's… it _feels_ familiar, but I can't think… hard to focus on it."

Arthur's eyebrows rose in shock. Despite all of his efforts to make Merlin perfectly comfortable using Magic around him, there was still an obvious hesitation to speak of it or use it. Because he wasn't sure whether it was a lifetime of habits, or because of what had happened the last time Merlin used it around him, he never said anything. It was strange to hear him speak of it so blithely now. "We're at the Crystal Cave."

Merlin's eyes flew open then, and he struggled to move to look around. Arthur kept his hand firmly on the shoulder, however, to still him. "Arthur, no! It's dangerous here," Merlin objected, and there was a very real fear in his voice. He remembered his last visit all too well. Then there had been an ancient Druid Seer to help him heal Arthur, and had revealed the future to him. And all the madness that followed.

Arthur swallowed, nodding. With his choice, Camlann had never happened. Merlin had never visited this Cave to regain his powers after Morgana had stolen them. But _he_ remembered. He remembered the pain of his injuries when Morgana had trapped him, remembered his utter sense of despair and failure to protect Arthur from meeting his Fate with Mordred. He keenly remembered how disappointed 'his' Arthur had been in him for not being at his side in the battle, unaware of the loss the warlock had suffered. His desperate grief at failing his King's expectations of him.

He shoved those memories down. That much, so far, he'd been able to prevent. "I know, but it's your only hope. It's _our_ only hope. We should hurry. I don't know how long this potion will keep you awake. Artemis said you needed barriers? What do you need to do?"

Merlin scrunched his face in confusion. "I… I don't know."

"The last time you were here, you were guided by someone. Did you feel him do anything?"

Merlin shook his head. "No, he wanted me open… Arthur, how do you know about that? You were unconscious."

Arthur swallowed. A year since their relationship had bloomed into something life sustaining for both of them, and this secret he still hadn't been able to tell. "Do you remember I once told you I had to make a choice?" Merlin nodded, slowly. "We don't have time to go into it, but Magic didn't send the Questing Beast as a bad omen. They sent it to draw me to that Cave to share a vision with me. I lived two lifetimes while you were frozen in time. Once, through your eyes, and another through mine. It's… it's how I knew about your magic. I couldn't live with either of those endings, so I made a different choice, one they never saw coming. _Our_ destiny has never changed, Merlin," Arthur whispered, brushing back a wisp of raven hair that had fallen into the warlock's eyes. He refused to miss a moment of them being open. "But our future was unwritten from that point."

Merlin's eyes were wide as he listened. "You are _very_ lucky I can already feel myself slipping," he growled. "When this is all done, we're going to have a long talk about secrets."

"Agreed. Now. Barriers?"

Merlin sighed, then struggled to sit up. Arthur frowned, but instantly had his arms wrapped around the trembling frame, helping the boy complete his task. Merlin took deep, shuddering breaths as he tried to control the pain Arthur could see clearly written on his face. "Let's just get to it."

Arthur shook his head. "Artemis said-"

"Artemis is a good friend to you, Arthur, I know, but he doesn't understand my Magic. It's instinctive, and in this place… it _wants_ us to go in there. The draw is getting stronger every moment I'm awake. I have to trust it will provide me with whatever barriers I need."

Arthur harrumphed. "That's a lot of blind faith," he pointed out, nonetheless slowly helping the younger man to stand.

Merlin shot him a smirk. "It's kept me alive so far."

"So far," Arthur muttered under his breath.

They made their way slowly to the entrance of the Cave, with Arthur becoming increasingly alarmed by the amount of weight Merlin had to put on him. Normally the stubborn man would kill himself just to prove he could stand on his own two feet.

Oddly, as soon as they entered, Arthur felt their Bond surge up around him, desperate to wrap itself around him. Remembering the druid's warning, he allowed it, but resisted the urge to be drawn into it. Insistently, it pushed against him, hard, and he gasped.

"Arthur?" Merlin asked in concern.

Arthur shook his head. "I'm fine. Keep going." There were beads of sweat on Merlin's face, and Arthur didn't dare take the time to figure out if they were from the effort of fighting the Cave's power, or the effort of staying awake.

They pushed until they were well into the Cave, surrounded by Crystals that flared to life as they passed. "Arthur…" Merlin cried out, beginning to shake in his lovers hold. Arthur adjusted his grip and forced them forward.

"Hang on! Almost there!" Arthur ground out. The calm, soothing Bond that had been such a part of him now felt like he was treading water in the middle of a wild ocean. Waves crashed over him, trying to drag him under. Trying to stay above them was exhausting him.

They hadn't quite made the center when Merlin gave a cry and fell limp against him. Exhausted from his own battle, Arthur's own knees buckled under the sudden dead weight, taking them both down. He barely managed to cushion his lover as best he could before the waves managed to suck him under.

_**MERLIN1010101010MERLIN** _

"Arthur." A voice whispered through his mind. "Wake up, Arthur." It was an oddly familiar voice, as if dredged from a memory. It was gentle but had a gruff quality to it, as if unaccustomed to use. Arthur groaned as he fought his way to full consciousness. His muscles ached as though he'd been on the battlefield for hours, and his mouth felt dry. He wondered for a moment if Merlin had gotten half as drunk as he'd appeared to…

"Merlin!" he called out, memory crashing on him as he came fully awake, instantly twisting to find his lover. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the boy lying next to him. Ashen, pale, sweat soaked and barely breathing, but alive. He looked around the next threat, the source of the voice.

Standing in the center of the Cave was Balinor, the Last Dragon Lord. Arthur blinked, knowing the man to be dead. In two lifetimes he remembered feeling first the pain, then the frustration of his loss. "Balinor?"

The older man inclined his head. Arthur saw he still had that quiet quality of dignity about him. "Arthur, there isn't much time."

The King looked again to his lover, unable to resist putting a panicked hand on his chest to feel that he was still breathing. "Can you cure him?"

Balinor shook his head. "Not I. Magic is the fabric of all life, Arthur, and in this place, he is most connected to those lines. They will rid him of the poisons in his blood."

"You came to Merlin in another life. Did I take that from him? This chance to see you?" Arthur asked, saddened by the thought.

Balinor walked over and knelt in front of a King who suddenly felt very young. Felt like he was seeking a hard man's approval all over again. Only this man was not Uther, and the brown eyes that watched him were kind, saddened, not grey and hard like steel.

"You took nothing from him, Arthur. Have no fear. I will _always_ be near him when he needs me most. Because of who and what he is, a part of him will always sense that." He offered Arthur a gentle smile. "That is not often. You are his strength, Arthur. When he falls into Darkness, it is your Light that sees him through. You are the sword to his shield."

"I love him," Arthur confessed, never realizing until the words were out of his mouth how badly he'd needed to say that to _one_ of their Fathers.

Balinor's eyes crinkled in warmth as he smiled, nodding. "I know you do. It's a testament to the strength of your Bond with him that you can see and hear me now."

Arthur licked his lips. "Is the Bond dangerous?" He desperately needed to know. He'd been wielding it as a tool, but a part of him had always wondered of the consequences of its growing strength. If it could save Merlin, could it not also cause harm? He'd had so many warn him of the dangers, it was beginning to feel more like a curse. "Could it hurt him?"

Balinor pursed his lips. "He does not wield it, Arthur. This tool was given to you, and to you alone. He perceives it as an instinct, a connection to you that alerts him. It will never be more. A thing of the destiny you share. You, Arthur, know it for the living being it is. It grows with you, changes with you. Its potential is limited only by your willingness to grow with it. No, Arthur, it is not dangerous to him. But it could be to you. Do not lose yourself in it."

Arthur nodded, remembering the feeling of drowning in it before he'd lost consciousness. He jerked as Merlin began to cough, harshly. "Merlin!"

"Listen to me, Arthur. Time is short. His healing is almost complete, and he cannot stay here much longer. There is a great danger. Time has been altered."

Arthur blinked in confusion. "Time?" he said slowly.

Balinor nodded. "The earth trembles with the dark magic that has been placed upon it. Morgana has altered things she has no comprehension of. In her hatred, she has forsaken the promise of all High Priestesses to maintain balance. This is the last remnants of the world that existed when you stepped in here."

Arthur frowned. "I don't understand."

"I know you don't. But you must listen. My son has the power to undo what she has done, but it must only be that! The natural flow must be restored. Any small change could result in returning to a future very different than the one you knew. "

"But I've made changes before…."

"No, son. The choice you made was a potential path, was always possible- just unlikely. The changes you made were small, affecting so few around you. You remember your frustration at not being able to change certain things? Those events needed to happen in order to maintain balance. What Morgana has done has shifted the very nature of the Earth. Magic weeps for the darkness done."

"What has she done?"

Balinor's gaze shifted to Merlin, and a great sadness entered it. Arthur sucked in a breath as he followed his eyes. He knew, then, and his heart clenched with fear. "She killed him," he whispered. Balinor nodded, turning back to him. "She went back and killed him." He tightened his fist on the boys chest to reassure himself he was still there, despite the wave of grief that tried to hollow him out.

"Merlin will have to find her magic, and follow its trail. Let him rest, but you must hurry. The longer you stay in this future, the more you will forget what it should be." He lifted his hand, as if to touch Merlin, then drew it back. "Save the future of Albion, Arthur, but don't forget that some things _must_ happen." Balinor stood then, turning to leave. "Take care of him, Arthur. For what it's worth, I give you my blessing, as long as you promise to do that."

Merlin began coughing again, and Arthur was immediately on his knees, rolling the choking warlock onto his side. A black ooze began to come from his mouth, and Arthur could only pray it was the poison. He rubbed the heaving back, but when he turned to complete his promise to Balinor, the man was already gone.

_**MERLIN1010101010MERLIN** _

Arthur roused when he felt the warmth against him stir. He automatically put a hand to Merlin's cheek, but he could already feel the coolness of the forehead resting against his neck. He breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but with his lover tucked safely against him, the hard ride to the Cave, and then everything that had happened since, he'd been exhausted. He must have dozed off after he'd managed to get Merlin to drink some more of the broth.

He tightened his arms when Merlin tried to move away from him, letting him loose only enough to turn slightly to look at him. He felt a thrill run through him as azure eyes focused on him. He smiled. "Merlin-" Merlin's lips grabbing his silenced him.

Arthur responded in full, partially relieved, partially desperate for this sign of his lover being alive. So close. It was always so damnably close. He felt his own need match the urgency of Merlin's kiss, and he used his tongue to force those lips apart, diving in to taste all that was his lover.

Merlin's hands grabbed at his jacket, and he helped as much as he could, making sure that luscious mouth never left his. They fumbled getting their tunics off, both shivering as the cool night air hit their skin. The sensation was added by Merlin's hand roaming every inch of skin they could reach, and Arthur felt himself nearly burst in his breeches. They couldn't… Merlin was…

He forced his mouth away from Merlin's with a cry that came out as more of a gasp. Both were panting for breath. "Merlin," he panted. "We can't. You were so sick…" He felt now the minor tremors running through the muscles his hands were going over. He knew enough to know they were caused by more than need or pleasure.

Merlin shook his head, and dove back to capture the King's mouth. Arthur made a noise of protest, but couldn't stop himself from responding. He was just as desperate to feel his lover, to connect with him. Balinor's warning of time went through his mind, but he pushed it away. He hesitated only when he felt Merlin attempt and fail to adjust his position. "Merlin-" he whispered.

"Please, Arthur, I need …" he never finished, choosing instead to nip at Arthur's jaw line. He never had to. Arthur could never deny the rare times Merlin sincerely needed this. Arthur gasped when Merlin sucked lightly on his pulse point.

He reached over and took the boys face in his hands, drawing it up so they were at eye level. He never thought he'd ever get tired of seeing those blue eyes, so much more precious to him now after having been closed for so long. "Let _me_ do the work, then."

Merlin scowled, "Arthur-" he objected, stopping when the King easily flipped them so that Merlin was lying underneath the battle trained Knight. It had been embarrassingly easy for the prat to do, which Merlin was sure had been the point.

"Or we stop," Arthur murmured, lowering his head to breeze his lips over the long throat he adored kissing. "Your choice."

Merlin cried out when Arthur bit the soft skin just above his collar bone, palming the bulge straining his pants at the same time. The warlock growled even as bucked into that expert hand. "Cheat."

Arthur smiled, then bit down again, softening it with a gentle swipe of his tongue, enjoying the faint taste of sweat on Merlin's skin. He kissed his way up that elegant throat even has his hands undid the laces that were keeping his prize from him.

He rejoiced in taking the hard, heated member into his hand even as he captured his lovers lips. "Promise me," Arthur whispered against them when the warlock was forced to wrench his mouth away to cry out as he pumped his hand.

"Yessss," Merlin hissed, willing now to do anything his King asked if only he wouldn't stop. "Gods, yes…"

Arthur kissed him again before breaking away to reach the ledge of dirt above their heads where he'd put their packs, smiling at Merlin's disappointed whimper. How he loved that he could make those sounds come from the younger man! He grabbed the bottle of oil that Gwen had so thoughtfully packed for him.

Merlin took full advantage of the King's middle being in his face, and with surprising speed, untied the laces. Arthur screamed as Merlin's talented mouth engulfed him to the root, falling forward to catch himself on his arms against the ledge. The King felt the smile that came from the warlock just before he applied a heavy suction, making Arthur give another strangled cry. He allowed himself to thrust gently in time with the bobbing head, growling when Merlin literally tried to swallow his tip whenever it hit the back of his throat.

"Merlin, I can't…" he panted in warning. He wasn't going to last. He'd needed this too much. Merlin swallowed again, humming around the sensitive flesh. He cried out Merlin's name as he felt himself empty into the heat surrounding every inch of him.

Merlin swallowed everything, giving satisfied little hums as he gently milked every trace of hardness from his lover, drawing out further cries from a normally restrained royal, not stopping until the heat in his mouth was completely and utterly spent, softening. As it slipped from his mouth, he caught it with his lips, flicking out his tongue to make sure it was properly cleaned.

"Ah!" Arthur gasped, shuddering as the flicking tongue seemed to create tiny waves of pleasure through him. "My god, Merlin," he whispered, trying to make his quivering muscles obey him. He began to ease himself back down, intending to return the favor, he realized his angle had changed, and his buttocks grazed the moistened tip of Merlin's own erection. He smiled devilishly as a thought occurred to him.

He brought himself back to Merlin's mouth, attacking it with all the savagery Merlin had initiated with. He shivered when Merlin groaned into his mouth, tongues dancing and demanded more still. He used one hand- now oil slicked- to fist the heat that was eagerly bucking into his hand. He deliberately kept it slow and paced, knowing well enough by now that his lover needed as faster pace to go over the edge.

He nipped, bit, sucked, and kissed every inch of the arching throat, he kissed deep enough to swallow every sound the writhing boy beneath him made, keeping him focused. When he was ready, Arthur balanced himself up a little, going to the one spot he had deliberately avoided. He leaned in to that spot just below Merlin's ear, and sucked- hard.

Merlin screamed, his hips instinctively bucking to the pleasure that washed through him. He faltered when he felt the resistance he'd bucked into. "Arthur-" he whimpered, unsure, but his King hadn't released that incredible suction. He hesitated when he felt Arthur position himself, Merlin's tip to his entrance. They had never done this. He felt panic well up in him. He didn't know what he was doing. He could hurt…

"Merlin," Arthur murmured, having released his hold when he felt the sudden tension beneath him. "Merlin, it's all right. I want this."

"But…"

"Shhh," Arthur soothed, deliberately holding Merlin's eyes as he used his own hand to hold the slicked shaft to him. "Let me do the work, remember?"

"Arthur-" The King could sense his panic, and leaned in to kiss him again, calming him with every touch of his roaming hand while the other stayed where it was. He kept at it until those muscles relaxed, until Merlin's return kisses were no longer hesitant.

He took a final plunge into the dance of their tongues, easing himself onto Merlin at the same time, using his own thighs to stop the boy from automatically thrusting harder into him. He swallowed the cry that came from his lover at the new sensation, and shuddered with his own pleasure.

His own muscles shook with the strain of slowly easing onto the long shaft. Every part of him wanted the whole of Merlin in him, wanted to keep feeling that delicious stretch of his ring muscles. But he knew he had to force himself to take this slow. Knew he needed to give his lover time to adjust to what was happening. Knew there was still a part of Merlin that was frightened. He gave a hiss of satisfaction when he was finally fully seated. Merlin whimpered in pleasure, even as he froze.

"Oh this feels wonderful," Arthur groaned. He slid his hips forward a little, giving a low cry as the position angled Merlin's length against that spot inside him, brushing it lightly the way he knew he liked. He did it again. "Please, Merlin, I need this," he gasped out. This time when he slid forward, he made sure his re-awakened erection was thrust against the silky soft skin of Merlin's pelvic area, just in case Merlin had any doubts as to how _much_ he was enjoying this. "Yes, oh yes," he called out, giving in to all the sensations, thrilled when Merlin started to move with him.

Merlin panted as the soft heat wrapped around him in ways he'd never thought possible. Arthur's obvious enjoyment helped him to relax a little. It was amazing. It was heaven. He could feel Arthur's muscles working him, could feel the shift of angle as Arthur slid his hips back and forth. Could feel the slick moisture of Arthur thrusting himself against his skin.

"Are you ready, Merlin?" Arthur gasped out. This was teasingly amazing but he wanted more. He leaned forward to grab those swollen lips, nipping at them before he devoured them. He wanted more, but he needed Merlin to be all right with this. "Please?" he begged, jerking his hips sharply, drawing a cry from both of them. He did it again, so hard it rocked Merlin up a little.

"Yes! Arthur, yes!" Merlin cried out, completely lost in the pleasure now, in his connection with Arthur. The King did it again, just to watch that beautiful arch as Merlin finally let go, finally tried to press up further into him. He closed his eyes as something deep and ancient filled him. He had a sense of Merlin he'd never experienced before. This was more than just being aware of him. This was sharing everything he was, everything he felt. He jerked again as he felt something slide into a place. The Bond. He reached into it, daring only to brush it lightly, and was overwhelmed with the dual sensations of his own body and Merlin's. A new thread was added, yellow this time to flow in the river of light. Testing it, he called it to him, shuddering when the wonder and awe and pleasure of the warlock beneath him took up every space in his soul. He was doing this. He was _building_ the Bond.

He lifted himself almost completely off, then pushed down hard even as Merlin thrust up. In moments, Arthur was using his powerful legs to set a punishing pace, unable to hold back his cries. Merlin went to take his shaft in hand, but Arthur shook his head, grabbing his hand and holding it to his chest, urging it to tweak his nipples. "No," he panted out, giving another cry at the next thrust. "Just this… oh gods _yes_ … just this…" He was so close as it was. He let himself slip out of the Bond, then. Let himself feel only the marvel of the being he was connected to. He was surprised to feel his own pleasure was just as strong as the combined bodies in the Bond. He'd hoped letting it go would slow it down, give him more time to enjoy this feeling. It didn't. "Oh gods." Close, so close.

Merlin sat up, wrapping his arms around Arthur's waist, using his mouth to nip at the sensitive nubs. The position gave Arthur full control over his speed and depth, an advantage he took to set an even faster pace, his breath hitching at the dual sensations. Merlin knew he was close to finishing himself. Knew he wanted Arthur to go over first. He let his mouth explore the smooth skin on that broad chest, enjoyed the slight salt of the sweat sheen, worked his tongue around the nipples. Arthur was moving faster now, his cries of pleasure making the warlock shiver with his own want. Finally, Arthur gasped out a plea, and Merlin couldn't deny him any longer. He mouth clamped on one little pink numb, and he sucked, feeling Arthur's pace falter, then with a smile bit down on the nub he had just sensitized.

Arthur screamed his name, ramming himself down even as he let loose ropes of his essence. Feeling those strong muscles clamping around him had Merlin tipping back his head as he went over with his King, straining to push up even as Arthur ground down on him. "Arthur!"

His world went black.

_**MERLIN10101010101010MERLIN** _

Arthur grinned when blue eyes finally fluttered open. He ran a finger down Merlin's cheek, enjoying the feel of the sharp cheekbones, a contrast to how incredibly smooth and soft the skin was. "Hey," he whispered.

Merlin blinked, realized he was lying halfway on his King, tucked under a protective shoulder while his head was resting on a perfectly muscled pectoral. He frowned, then began to blush as he shook with an aftershock of pleasure, remembering. "I'm so sorry," he muttered, humiliated.

Arthur laughed, truly delighted. "For what? I didn't think it was possible for my ego to get any bigger. It appears I was wrong."

"Prat," Merlin mumbled, feeling too drowsy to think of a way to take it down a notch.

Arthur looked at him. "Seriously, though, are you all right?" He had just been cured from a poison that nearly succeeded in killing him, and for all his jokes, Arthur was feeling guilty that he'd given in to their needs. He knew that Merlin's black out, momentary though it was, had been caused by too much too soon. But he'd never been able to deny the younger man anything when he asked. Especially not for something as simple as a connection that was almost lost. He was fairly certain he'd needed it as much as the warlock had.

Merlin nodded. "I'm fine." He felt Arthur tense beneath him. He continued hurriedly. "I'm amazing. That was…" he shook his head, unable to find words. "I've never… I mean, I'm sorry if I…"

Arthur chuckled, relaxing now that he knew Merlin was genuinely well. One day he thought he might learn not to distrust Merlin saying he was 'fine', but he didn't think that would happen any time soon. The younger man had the horrible habit of being the exact opposite of the word whenever he gave it as an answer. He held the warlock tighter to him, dropping a kiss on top of his head.

"You need to know, Merlin, that I've never given myself that way, ever, to anyone," Arthur confessed.

Merlin sat up, using his arms to balance himself as he looked at his King. Arthur wanted to kiss the astonishment off his face. "Never? But I thought…"

Arthur laughed. "I was well known for my affairs, Merlin. It was never something I felt I wanted with anyone. I knew they all wanted something from me, even if it was just bragging rights. I was never willing to give up that part of myself for something so small. My affairs were about using each other to achieve an end. Mine was pleasure, theirs was a favor from royalty. Especially when it got around that I was incredibly generous to those who had bedded me well." He smiled, reaching up to brush Merlin's bangs out of his eyes. He loved those eyes. "Until you. I won't deny it. When you challenged me, I thought my breeches would explode right there in the market. Do you remember the first day you worked for me? The first time you were gathering up my dinner plates?"

Merlin nodded. "You stumbled and fell against me, then yelled at me for being clumsy." He shot his King a pointed glare.

Arthur smirked. "I didn't stumble. It was a move I've made many times, with many servants. But you just turned around, and your eyes were fiery indignation when you told me to I wouldn't lose fights to peasants if I'd learn to walk on my feet instead of always putting them in my mouth." Arthur laughed at the memory. "If I'm honest, looking back, I think I fell little in love with you that day. You made me curious. And once I'd bedded a servant, I wasn't allowed to keep them. It was the fastest way to dismiss someone from my service, you see. My father was exceptionally desperate for staff when you popped into the picture, and incredibly frustrated with the promiscuity of his son. So I decided to put it off for a few days. Then a week. A month. Then, suddenly, I stopped thinking about it at all. Until you let me kiss you after you… after you died. By then I'd known for some time I loved you. I was just too much of a coward to act on it. Too worried you didn't feel the same way. Scared of what others would say. I was a fool."

Not wanting his King to dwell on a time that still hurt him so much, Merlin threw out a smirk of his own. "So you father chose me because he thought I was too ugly for you to want to bed?"

Arthur shook his head. "I very much enjoy sex, Merlin. Physical attraction, or lack thereof, was never a barrier or a requirement for me. No. He thought the fact that I'd thrown you into the cells meant I disliked you." Arthur's smile faltered. "It wasn't until you drank the poison for me, which lead to me openly disobeying him for the first time in my life, that he realized his mistake, and by then it was too late. It's why he was so willing to let you die. He wanted to fix an error he'd made without having to admit he'd made one. The cost of one peasants life was a small price to pay for his pride."

Merlin leaned down, cupping Arthur's cheek. "He loved you fiercely, Arthur. He wasn't perfect, but in that, you can never fault him."

Arthur sat up to kiss him. "You're amazing, you know that? He was awful to you. Why can't you let me hate him, even for a moment?" he chuckled.

"Because he's your father, and better an imperfect but loving father than none at all," Merlin blushed, looking away.

Arthur wrapped the younger man in his arms. "Someday, Merlin, I hope you can forgive yourself as easily as you forgive everyone else." He closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of his lover. It was time, now that Merlin had given him an opening. "Speaking of Fathers." He explained what he had been told in the Cave, regretting when Merlin jerked out of his arms, eyes wide.

"She went back in time?" he stood, pacing. "Arthur, that takes incredible power. And the risk to the sorcerer trying…" he shook his head. He stood straighter, looking toward the Cave. His eyes were large and frightened. He swallowed. "I have to go back in."

Arthur was on his feet in an instant. "What? _Why?_ " It had been a desperate act to bring him here in the first place! Not only had the druid been concerned, but Arthur had a head full of memories that had been screaming at him how dangerous it could be for the warlock. Merlin hadn't come out of his previous encounter with the Cave quite as unscathed as he would have everyone believe.

"The Crystals have the power to show me the future. My guide last time said they could show all paths. If I can just figure out how, they should show me the past. I can figure out where she broke it."

Arthur frowned. "And what will you do once you find the break?"

"Then I travel back and stop it." Merlin's expression made it clear he'd thought his King had gone mad for thinking anything else was even a possibility.

"You just finished saying how dangerous it was to do that," Arthur pointed out in frustration. "It took Morgana a year to build up for this. _You_ can _barely_ stand!" He cursed himself for being an idiot. He should have waited until morning to tell the warlock anything. At least then he'd have had a chance at food and rest.

"Well it's not like I have a choice, Arthur," Merlin rolled his eyes, equally frustrated with having to explain what was obvious to him to his over protective lover. "You know this whole saving the world thing was easier when you _didn't_ know about my magic." He'd meant it as a joke, but Arthur's reaction was instantaneous.

Arthur reached out and grabbed his shoulders, shaking them in his fury, feeling something inside him that had been stretched to its limit years ago, snap. "Oh I knew! I watched you ride out every _single_ time _knowing_ what would happen. Knowing you could be hurt or worse, that the choices _I_ made no longer assured any certainty of the future. That every cut and bruise you hid from me were _my_ fault! All because I had no other weapons to use against the enemies _my_ father created. You twice damned fool, it _killed_ me to let you go!" He took a deep breath to calm himself, loosening his hold only a little when he realized he was probably hurting the frail man. "Believe me, Merlin. Better than anyone- even you- I know the curse of those crystals!"

Merlin softened when he saw the genuine pain in Arthur's eyes. He had forgotten Arthur's earlier confession of his visions during the Questing Beast. "But you _did_ let me go," he answered quietly. "Because you had to. Because you knew it was the _right_ thing to do. You have to let me go now, too." He raised his hands to grasp the wrists that still had a tight enough hold on him to prevent him from stepping away. "You know that, or you wouldn't have told me at all."

Arthur sagged in defeat, and his arms dropped. "Just once, Merlin, I wish you'd find some shred of self-preservation. Yes, I have to let you go." There was hurt in his eyes. Hurt that Merlin hadn't even hesitated to throw away all that they were, even for the love of his own Kingdom. Then a grim resolution settled into his expression, shoving the hurt aside. He nodded. "But I don't have to let you go alone. Not anymore."

Merlin frowned. "Arthur, you said 'when I woke up'. That cave has an effect on you, too. It's too dangerous."

"I don't care."

"Arthur-" he stopped when ice blue eyes met his, absolute in their determination. Merlin knew, then, that either they both went, or neither of them did. It was as much fact as the sun coming up every day. He nodded, reluctantly accepting what he knew he couldn't change. "Let's go."

"No, eat first. Rest for a few hours."

Merlin shook his head, taking a step toward his clothes, but Arthur grabbed his arm again, lighter this time, careful not to hurt him. Still, as gentle as his touch was, there was no mistaking the clear command in his eyes. "You _will_ obey, Merlin," he spoke quietly, but forcefully. "Or you are still weak enough that I can throw you on a horse and be gone from here in minutes. The future be _damned_."

Everything in the warlock screamed defiance. Screamed that Arthur wouldn't dare. But it took only a single glance at Arthur's face to understand that this wasn't his lover. That in his fury, in failing to protect what mattered most to him, in having to accept that this sacrifice, too, would be asked for the love of Camelot, a transition had occurred. This was _King_ Arthur, ordering someone he cared deeply for into danger for the good of the many. This was the King who would fight to the last breath to protect everything he had worked to build. This was the King who had grown up as a battlefield commander, had ordered men to their deaths- men he'd called friend- and was prepared to do it as often as it took to achieve victory. This King expected to be _obeyed_. Without question, and without hesitation.

It was a quiet meal and an uneasy, cold, sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Merlin took a deep breath. His lover- no, King Arthur- was standing next to him at the entrance to the Cave. This needed to be done, he reminded himself. It was not the first time he'd hurt the ones he loved to head off to save Camelot. His heart squeezed as he remembered how often he'd lied to his Guardian and mentor. He forced himself not to look at the stone features of the man beside him as he stepped into the Cave.

As before, first it was just a wave of sensations that hit him, odd and vague with no real definition. Already he felt the ancient powers here calling to his magic, calling for a union of its kin. He rolled his shoulders, trying to shrug it off as he pushed further in.

The first little shocks started only moments later, crawling all over him, touching everything. The pull on him- on his magic- got stronger. He took a last, fleeting look at his King. Arthur would kill him himself if he knew Merlin was doing this for _him_. For _his_ love of Camelot. But Merlin needed the reminder. Needed to see for himself, even in an expressionless profile, the face of the man he loved more than life itself. Even more than Camelot. The man he was trying to save. _Please_ , he begged whatever spirits might be listening, _please protect him. Help him. This is will tear him apart before it's done_.

He shivered as the magic of the Cave echoed his thoughts back to him as a truth he hadn't even yet _begun_ to realize the scope of.

_**MERLIN1010101010101010MERLIN** _

Arthur kept his features cold even as the Bond tried to wash over him again. This time the waves crashed uselessly against stone walls. Merlin had been right. There were no choices here. Morgana had threatened Camelot, and had to be dealt with. Tucked away far behind those walls was a man terrified he was going to lose his reason for living. That man knew the truth. That _he_ had provoked this. That in matching Morgana's cruelty, in gloating that Emrys lived despite her attempt, he had driven her to this desperate act. The King standing on top of those walls shouted for that man to be silent. This is what had to be done to ensure the future of his people, of his Kingdom. As long as lives were saved doing it, then the lives lost were merely the price of victory. Including his own.

He felt Merlin's eyes on him, and forced himself not to look back as they progressed. A part of him didn't understand why he was so upset with the warlock. In all their years since meeting- even their first- Merlin had never hesitated to step into danger to do the right thing. Not once. Whether facing a spoiled, brat of a Prince or facing a Dragon thirsty for revenge, it never mattered. The greater good mattered, regardless of the personal cost.

Except, of course, if that cost was his precious Once and Future King. For _that_ cause- Arthur allowed himself a shudder. There was nothing that would not go on _that_ sacrificial altar. Although the warlock was quite determined that his own blood be shed first. And that was the rub, wasn't it?

Merlin could willingly, gladly even, step in front of the fireball hurtling toward them, but would push Arthur out of the way if he tried the same, never once understanding _why_ Arthur would have stepped in to begin with. Merlin had once accused him of laying the lives of others at his feet in the name of justice. It had never occurred to the sorcerer that Arthur might wonder the same. How many lives were buried beneath _his_ boots for hope? Hope in a cause that the younger man frequently seemed to forget required _both_ of them to achieve?

Had the years of constantly calling him useless been what cemented that idea? Or the fact that as a magic user, his life was as good as forfeit from the day he was born? For all his abilities, all his power… Merlin genuinely seemed to believe he was a speck of dust in the grand scheme. Easily wiped away and soon forgotten. Prince's knelt at his feet, swearing to serve, but he managed to somehow continue to believe that his role was minimal. That _Arthur_ was the great hero to save all of Albion, the linchpin to success.

Arthur stumbled as he felt the Bond that had been breaking against his erected walls find a crack. It lashed at him, as though punishing him for keeping it out. He shored up the crack. He couldn't afford to feel. This whole thing was going to blow up in their faces, as everything always did, and some way, somehow, Merlin would end up the worst for it. Then, _if_ the warlock survived, it would be left up to Arthur to pick up the pieces. It wasn't a burden, not really- he'd rather pick up the pieces than not have him there at all- but his heart could only take so much.

He winced when the Bond found another crack. Why was it so much harder to keep those walls up when he was thinking of his lover? And what was it about this place that sent it wild? He heard the grunt beside him and reached out automatically to steady the man. Another crack appeared.

"Get this done, Merlin," he commanded. "The sooner we're out of here, the better." And he let go.

_**MERLIN101010101010101010MERLIN** _

Merlin closed his eyes, trying to shut out the images. There were so many. Death, destruction and war in most. So few of life and joy. He needed to focus! Needed to push. His head felt like it was going to explode. He wished it would, already.

He vaguely felt Arthur's hand on his elbow, and there was a voice, saying something… he couldn't make it out. It didn't matter. He had to move forward. It was the crystals that would focus the images.

He felt his magic bubble inside him, aching to be let loose. If he didn't hurry, both would overwhelm him long before he got to the answers.

Morgana, he thought. She broke time. When did she break it? He desperately tried to sort through the images, trying to keep that single thought as a reference point. He felt like he was going to be sick. So many futures. So many possibilities. He needed a crystal. Needed to focus. The answer had to be there! Without it, he couldn't go back!

It wasn't enough. He was going to have to use his magic. He took a deep breath, and let it all go.

_**MERLIN10101101010101010MERLIN** _

The scream brought down the last of his walls. He turned to find Merlin on his knees, screaming, hands over his ears and eyes screwed shut. Why hadn't he noticed Merlin hadn't answered his command?

 _Too busy throwing yourself a pity party_ , a snide voice called out from the back of his mind.

"Merlin?" Arthur knelt in front of the boy. "Merlin, look at me." He was thankful when bleary eyes opened, that stunning molten gold practically glowing, tried to focus on him, before they found a crystal behind him and slammed shut again. Only hours ago he'd so appreciated seeing those eyes open. He was thankful they were closed again. He'd seen stark terror in them, an emotion he was unaccustomed to seeing in the younger man, for all that he'd often made the accusation of cowardice.

Come to think of it, Arthur was beginning to suspect a lot of his frustration at the boys' lack of self-worth was to be laid at his feet. While he was sure it went deeper than that, his unnecessary insults certainly hadn't helped.

"Tell me what I need to do here, Merlin, and I'll do it," he said, opting to end his sulk and be helpful. That was why he had come, wasn't it? It was hard to think and keep pushing the Bond away.

"Help me," Merlin gasped. "Need to go further. Need Crystals."

Arthur nodded, pulling the warlock's arm over his shoulders and standing. They weren't too far from the center. It was slow going because Merlin kept trying to curl into himself. Arthur found himself battling the Bond more with every step.

It washed around him, desperate to consume him. He wrestled with it even as they finally stumbled into the center. Merlin's cry of surprise and immediate collapse caused him to stagger forward a couple of steps. He turned back to his lover. "Merlin?"

"Too many," Merlin whimpered. "There's too many." His eyes flew open, bright gold, as he looked toward another crystal, watching it for only a few moments before he cried out, wrenching his head away, toward another.

"You were a fool to bring him back," a voice accused. Arthur looked toward it, frowning when he saw Balinor's image again. "Twice a fool to come back yourself."

Arthur blinked, trying to concentrate. He looked over to Merlin, but the younger man was caught deep in whatever he was seeing. "You told us we had to fix it. We need to find the break. He said this was the only way. He said the answer was here."

"And you believed him?"

Arthur shook his head, using his hand to wipe sweat from his eyes. Again he wrestled down the Bond. "No. Not really. But I didn't know what else to suggest. You didn't give us a lot to go on beyond 'fix it'," Arthur snarled. He sank to his knees. He beginning to become afraid he wouldn't have the energy left to get them out of the Cave again. He closed his eyes to concentrate on the battle within.

When he opened them again, Balinor was kneeling in front of him. "You are his strength, Arthur."

Arthur smiled weakly. "Then he'd better do this fast or I won't have any left."

"He has deliberately opened himself to the ancient powers in this Cave. Invited a mixing of magic that will work to keep him here. He can't complete this task on his own."

"He won't let me help," Arthur growled, his earlier anger returning. He gulped air as another wave threatened to drown him. "Won't let me… it's fine for _him_ to leave _me_ , though," he snarled sarcastically.

"Then don't let him."

Arthur blinked in surprise. "I can't stop it." Tears sprang up in his eyes as grief swelled in him. Another cry from the younger man forced them to fall as he was forced, yet again, to sit back and watch his lover suffer in the name of the greater good. "I've tried. He will always put himself between me and that damned fireball."

Balinor cocked his head as Arthur shuddered. There was a very big part of him that was already tired of this particular fight. Always before _he_ had commanded the Bond. Something in this Cave gave it life. Gave it strength. "How many battles have you fought, Arthur?" the Dragon Lord asked gently.

Arthur frowned, trying to think. He shook his head. "Too many," he answered tiredly.

"And how many times have you given up war for peace?"

Arthur blinked, confused. He shook his head. "I don't understand. It's so hard to think," he moaned, holding his head, even though it was his heart that hurt the most. Rejecting the Bond was like rejecting his lover. Something it took a considerable physical and mental effort to do, if he was capable at all.

" _You_ are his strength, Arthur," Balinor repeated, standing. "And _you_ are Master of the Bond. In this place, your power is equal to his, if you are brave enough." Then he disappeared.

Arthur looked around, beginning to wonder if he'd imagined the whole thing. Merlin whimpered again, and he turned his attention to the warlock writhing on the Cave floor. Just as he was about to call out reassurance, he felt the Bond smash forcibly against the feeble defenses he'd managed to erect.

His earlier thought suddenly returned to him. ' _Hope in a cause that the younger man frequently seemed to forget required_ both _of them to achieve?_ '

_Both of them._

_War for Peace._

He knew what he had to do. Closing his eyes, for the first time in his life Arthur completely surrendered the fight. It took only seconds for the waves to drag him under.

_**MERLIN101010101010101010MERLIN** _

Arthur's eyes flashed open, aware and focusing immediately. He could feel the Bond, still, but it was subdued. He had accepted its message, its desire to help. And now he knew how. It was once again peaceful and quiet, ignoring now the magic that had tried to control it.

 _He_ was master of it now. It was his, and his alone, to wield.

He looked over, and his heart broke to see his lover curled against a wall, shuddering every few seconds, staring into a crystal without seeing, tears of water and blood mixing to trail down his cheeks, murmuring words so quietly it took his arrival right in front of the warlock to be able to hear them.

"Have to find it. Have to save him. Have to find it."

"Merlin." There was no reaction to his voice, and even as he knelt, he understood why. Merlin's clothes were covered in blood from wounds. He was so far into the visions that they were actually manifesting on his frail body. His eyes were still that molten gold, but around them was red and puffy. The magic glowing in his iris's was literally burning him. "Merlin, " Arthur whispered. "I'm sorry. I didn't understand. I do now. It's going to be all right," he murmured. He needed to heal the worst of those wounds. Without thinking, he reached into the magic of the cavern through the Bond. He felt the burn in his own eyes, but ignored it. He'd channeled Merlin's borrowed power often enough to expect it.

In his mind, he fixed the goal of healing the younger man, of bringing him back. A new orange thread appeared in the Bond, and Arthur knew instinctively to reach for it, to blend it with the band of light, and to extend it out toward the fading warlock. He wrapped his arms around his lover, drawing him tightly to him to lend his own strength.

 _Merlin_ , he sent with it. _Come back to me. We'll do this together_. He pushed the mixed threads into the younger man, watching as he gasped, writhed, and then arched- every muscle taunt. Merlin couldn't see it, but Arthur could see the wounds close into tender scars wherever the orange light touched, and he pushed it further still. Arthur knew at once when the pain stopped, because Merlin went limp against him, both of them breathing hard.

 _Merlin_ , he let his mind whisper. _Merlin, I'm here_.

 _Too many. I can't find it. I have to find it_ , came the exhausted reply. _I have to save him_.

Arthur nodded, and once again stretched parts of the Bond toward the man in his arms. He used it as a cocoon to safely wrap Merlin's mind. To throw up the barriers the boy had refused to in order to speed the search. He felt the Bond hum with the power in the cave. Knew Balinor had been right. Here, he was just as powerful as Merlin, if not more so because of his control. Where Merlin was lost in a world of chaos, wild and unpredictable, Arthur had access to peace and confidence the Bond would obey his will.

He could wield no other power than the Bond, but he understood with incredible clarity now the potential of what it could someday be.

He let the shields settle into place, offering a buffer from the magics overwhelming his lover. _I'm here, I'm always here. You've already saved me. Now let_ me _help_ you _._

There was a whimper of relief from the lips he had kissed swollen hours before. Before anger or hurt. When there had been only need, connection, and celebration. Those golden eyes blinked, then again, and the third time when they opened, they were mostly blue. Around the iris was a ring of gold with spikes leading inward toward the pupil. Arthur thought it was quite attractive. He'd always secretly loved that gold.

Arthur used his thumb to wipe away the blood mixed tears. He smiled softly. "You with me?"

Those eyes were now staring at him as intently as they had been staring at the crystals, and a frown had formed. "Arthur…" Merlin lifted a shaking hand to Arthur's own eyes, stopping just before he touched them. "Your eyes."

Merlin was shocked to see a ring of gold around the iris, with small spikes of gold leading toward the pupil. Arthur's stunning steel blue eyes now held a crown of gold. He didn't know his looked the same. He took in where he was, took in the tenderness of his body, but it wasn't the all consuming pain he clearly remembered being in not long before. Had it been minutes or hours? He'd lost all sense of time. He winced involuntarily as he felt another rush of images being thrown at him, jerking in shock when they were stopped by an invisible barrier.

"Hey, it's all right. I've got you," Arthur murmured, carding his fingers soothingly through the raven silk, disappointed to find it matted with a mixture of wet and dried blood. He had been able to heal the magical wounds. Apparently he could do nothing for the wounds Merlin had inflicted on himself. He felt another jerk in his arms, felt Merlin subconsciously try to move closer to him, and tightened his hold. "I've got you," he repeated patiently, kissing the boys temple.

Merlin shook his head. "How?"

"Someone once told me I was powerful in my own right. Here, in this place, I have embraced that power. I'm sorry it took so long. It's enough, Merlin. We can do this together. You need to focus, try to bring them to you. I will provide a buffer so they can't reach you all at once."

"But you were so angry…"

"I was hurt, not angry. A part of me still is. But, that battle too I surrendered. I can't stop you from protecting me, Merlin. I know now, I'll never be able to change that. But I _can_ make sure you can't stop me from protecting you, either. Not anymore. We are Sword and Shield, First Knights to Albion. We are _both_ needed to secure the future you have spent a lifetime hoping for. I _will_ _not_ let all you have suffered, all you have sacrificed, be thrown away because you decided my life was more important. From now on, we protect each other."

Merlin opened his mouth to object, but Arthur shook his head adamantly. "This is not a discussion. This is a fact. Someday you may realize that you are everything good about me. That I can't breathe without you in my life. And that the thought of having to watch you throw away a life _I_ value so incredibly cuts me to my core. Until that day, we will fight as one. A Shield to protect, and a Sword to strike. Remember always that the next time you decide to give away your life, you're giving mine too. I _won't_ live without you. That, too, you can accept as fact." There was a quiet confidence in his voice, a solid conviction that settled around both men. A promise made and bound in the deepest of magic.

Arthur took a deep breath as he felt another thread settle into the Bond. "Now, are you ready? We'll do this together."


	9. Chapter 9

Arthur swallowed as he looked around the silent square. His beloved Camelot was beyond empty. It had been abandoned for years. There wasn't another living soul for miles. The villages they'd passed had also been empty. He'd desperately tried to maintain hope, somehow, that the white city of Camelot would be different, even if it stood as a last refuge. To see it now, old, decaying, and utterly devoid of life, Arthur's stomach wanted to rid itself of the breakfast they'd quickly consumed before coming.

This was the future without Emrys? _This_ was the future his father would have left him had he ever discovered Merlin's magic? The thought terrified him. He'd always been angry at the loss of life, at the cruelty. But to see this, to actually see what his legacy would have been had he been allowed to continue... He looked at his lover, seeing his own shock and pain reflected back at him.

Merlin was shaking his head. "How could it have changed so much?" he whispered.

Arthur snorted. "Still so sure of the 'small' part you play?" he couldn't help but ask. One man dead, and a Kingdom left to ruin. Hope gone. A way of life disappeared. "What _is_ the life of a servant to that of a Prince?" he quoted, turning those gold crowned steel eyes on his lover. "Apparently, twice as much. Camelot would survive my death, even if a united Albion did not. It seems it didn't survive yours."

Merlin stubbornly set his jaw. "She must have changed more than that."

"What did the Crystals show you?"

"There wasn't exact details, Arthur, as I've told you a hundred times. I have a general sense of when. I'm hoping that by coming to the same place she did to cast, I'll be able to narrow it down a little." He looked around again, swallowing. "I have to fix this. Gwen, Gwaine, Elyan, Percival... they're all gone. I thought… I thought such a small change… I thought they'd be here, just a little different. I have to fix this."

Arthur moved his horse close enough to his lover that he could reach out and take his hand, giving it a squeeze. " _We_ will fix it. And they will all be waiting for us when we get back. All we have to remember is to only undo what she has done, nothing more."

Merlin shook his head. "Arthur, I've told you. I may not be strong enough to take us both…"

"Then we will wait until you _are_ before we try it," Arthur interrupted firmly. "I told you, Merlin. About certain things, I'm _done_ having discussions with you. This is the way it is going to be. Accept it." He heeled his horse, turning it toward the stables. "Come on. Let's get the horses settled."

Silently Merlin followed.

_**MERLIN10101010101010MERLIN** _

Merlin's heart pinched as he looked around the Chambers he had spent so much time in. It remained full of drying herbs, bottles, and other science tools. If it weren't for the dust and the ivy growing up the walls, it would look exactly the same as the last day he'd spent in it after Gaius had passed.

All of Camelot was like this. Stilled by time. Nothing destroyed. No proof that anything other than a complete abandonment had occurred. "They just left," he whispered.

"It's like that everywhere," Arthur said from behind him. Merlin jumped. They had split up to search the castle to search for resources. There hadn't been much to find.

"I wish I knew what happened," Merlin answered, moving to see what condition the potions were in. It might give him some idea of when the City had been left. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Arthur hesitate. "What is it?"

The King sighed, holding up a familiar object. "I found my journal in my rooms. I thought we might be able to get a sense of the events that led up to this."

"And?" For as long as Merlin could remember, the nightly ritual of writing in his journal had been the last thing done before the then Prince went to sleep. A habit he had not kept as a King, Merlin had always regretted. He remembered how much the ritual of his journal, a goblet of watered wine and a plate of cheese would soothe his Prince.

"And it seems you were right. Morgana's actions were a catalyst." He opened the book he was holding in his hands, hesitated, then handed it to Merlin.

" _Today's Journal will be my last…_ " he read out loud, eyes going wide, looking up. Arthur waved at him to continue reading even as the King moved around the room to start the fires in the pit and cook stove. Merlin moved aside the familiar wash bucket and sat on the bench he'd shared so many meals with Gaius at.

" _It's been a month. A month since He died. Even in writing, I cannot bear to speak the name. I never understood how much a part of Camelot He was. He was our heart, because He was mine. The Castle is quiet now. As if His passing took all the spirit from those within it. I know it took mine. If it hadn't been for Him, we would have had no defense against the enchantment my Father was under. As His last act, He saved us all. Saved the Kingdom from being ruled by a Troll. And no one but me knows it. No one will ever remember His name as that of a hero. I am ashamed of what is left of His sacrifice. He had so much faith that our Kingdom could be more, could be great. He was wrong._

" _Gaius is weak, now. I think it won't be long before he leaves us. My last connection to Him. I feel very much alone these days. Gwen went with Morgana when she returned to her family estates, unwilling to stay and watch the darkness slowly consuming our beloved city. The servants have all fled, our Guards mostly deserted. I wish I had been strong enough to leave, too. But there is no where else for me to go. All that I am is Camelot._

_"I was a fool. There is much I should have told Him. Much I should have done differently. A month to think of Him daily, to look back at how much He must have thought I hated Him. What I wouldn't give to have those days back, to freely offer the friendship I know was His only real request of me. He made it so easy to just be a man, not a Prince. To just be a friend who would tease and insult and banter. I never realized, before, how much I would miss that. How much of my sanity He kept a check on. I took it all for granted. Assumed He would always be there to guide me, to call me down. I was a Prince when He met me. I believe, with His help, I could have become a true King. We'll never know._

" _I cannot stand it any longer. The silence is deafening. Everywhere I look, there are hollow faces, devoid of the light He brought to us all. My Father's indignation and fury grow every day. Ten more burned today. One of them a child. How could a child possibly be a magic user? Many of the Knights left today. I let them go. How could I not with a child's screams still echoing in my own ears? I used to be strong enough to keep it reigned in. I was my Father's sanity, and all the while, He was mine. Now we live in a world of enemies and shadows._

" _The people are scared. With more accusations daily, they are beginning to leave the city. I can't blame them. So many innocents lost. I've lost all hope, and can no longer bring myself to speak up against my father. I am a ghost, a shell that walks and breathes but has no life. So more people will die. And my Father will continue his path to insanity, unchallenged, unchecked. I don't even hear His voice shouting at me anymore. It did, at the beginning, when the accusations first started. Shouted at me to get out of my own self pity and help the people of my Kingdom. I didn't know how, though, and so they burned. Eventually, His voice left me._

" _Is this my fault? In making that choice, did I rob Him of our future? Is this slow destruction of Camelot my punishment from Fate? It doesn't matter anymore. There is nothing left of the Camelot I have loved and bled for. Our enemies are coming. Those memories tell me that. And we've lost the only weapon we ever had to defeat them. The empty corridors and streets not worth defending. To my enemies, take the city. It has long since been lost in shadow. Take the Mad King that now sits on her thrown. He rules only over ghosts._

" _I am defeated. Today, I will seek the solace of oblivion. It cannot possibly be any darker than this. My only regret is Him. There was so much I should have said._ "

A hand on his shoulder made him jerk, and he saw Arthur looking at him with concern. It was only then that he felt the moisture on his face. He was crying. There was such hopelessness in the words. A profound sorrow that flowed through him so strongly he wanted to beg the forgiveness of the man who'd written them. "I'm sorry," he said, wiping away his tears. He re-read the last line, and a dark suspicion began to form. "Where did you find this?"

Arthur knelt down in front of him. "This is Morgana's doing, Merlin. You need to know that."

"Arthur, where did you _find_ this?" Merlin insisted. "Please, I have to know."

"In my chambers." He took a deep breath. "On the desk… beneath the remains of a hanged man. No one cared enough to cut him down."

Merlin leaned over and vomited into the bucket he had moved to sit.

_**MERLIN1010101010101010MERLIN** _

Arthur watched the boy with concern. The shaking frame seemed determined to bring up everything it had ever consumed. "Easy, easy, my love," he soothed, rubbing the heaving back, hoping his hand would provide a grounding. "Shhh, we're here. We're both alive. We're going to change this."

He had debated even showing the journal to his lover. But there was important information in it that would help them. He moved to the bucket of drinking water he'd brought in with him, adding wood to the fire to warm the small area even more. Nothing in that entry surprised him. He felt a great pity for the defeated Prince who written it, for the regret he had to suffer. But he understood the shock to his kind hearted lover, who would never truly accept his own importance.

Returning to the younger man, who was still shaking but had been reduced to the occasional dry heave, he offered the water. "Here, drink."

Merlin had his eyes closed, but shook his head, pressing a hand to his stomach, as he tried to draw in steady, deep breaths. "Arthur," he whispered, heaving again as his thoughts tried to wrap around the image of his golden Prince, hanging from the rafter over his desk. Left there to rot, denied even given a proper burial. The final betrayal of his King and People.

"Shhhh… It's all right, Merlin. Listen to me. You can hear my voice. Feel my hand on your skin. I'm still here. I would never leave you. Not like that. Please, Love, drink? For me?" Arthur pleaded.

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief when the warlock finally accepted the cup with a trembling hand. Standing, he threw his cloak over the thin shoulders, then went to prepare a meal with the last of their food from their packs. He hoped Merlin recovered enough to eat it. He was going to need his strength. As he worked, he decided he needed to distract the younger man. "I wouldn't have shown it you at all, except this gives us what we need! Now we know. She attacks you shortly after my father marries Catrina."

Merlin nodded, taking a deep breath, choosing to focus on the information rather than the meaning. Arthur was right. This was, after all, the future they were about to try and change. And however much it pained him, it explained so much about what they had returned to. If Arthur had… had also died, Camelot was finished. If Uther had gone mad, as it appeared he had without his son to challenge his growing paranoia, people would have fled. Pain clenched his heart as he thought of the people he loved. It was one thing to die in a quick attack, quite another to watch the end approach.

"Merlin, I'm busy making dinner here," Arthur called out, interrupting his thoughts. "I can't see you nodding."

"Obviously you can," Merlin shot back automatically, grounding himself to the sound of his lover's chuckle. He thought he understood Prince Arthur's hatred of the silence. So much had changed between them, but even he had missed their exchanges. Until he'd figured out that it hadn't changed so much as _evolved_ into something equally as special, and equally uniquely _them_.

"So. Let's think. When would Morgana have had the opportunity to kill you? Obviously, there's when you were trapped in Catrina's lair. But it would have been difficult for her to make her way down there without being seen. And that was before my father married the Troll."

Merlin frowned. "I never told you about being trapped. Arthur, just how vivid _were_ those visions?"

Arthur sighed. "Very." The warlock frowned at him, and he knew the time had come to explain. "The second life I lived, Merlin, was through my own eyes. I was my father's creature, a result of believing everything he'd ever told me. We were captured, and you almost died. We got away because you revealed your Magic."

"You killed me," Merlin stated with absolute certainty.

Arthur nodded. "It was the law, and I was desperate to honor the memory of my father. Gwaine and Lancelot were furious, tried to stop me. Gwaine was prepared to kill me to save you. Leon looked so disappointed in me. You stopped them all. You said it was my right. My choice." Arthur took a steadying breath, looking over to the man that was his lover, needing to remind himself that he hadn't done the awful thing his mind said he had. "You were so calm, so composed. I practically begged you to lie to me, to offer something in your own defense. But you wouldn't. You reminded me of how you'd once said you were happy to serve until the day you died. That it remained true, even then, if your death served me. Your last request was that I do it, there in the woods, with the Knights as witness as per the Code of Camelot."

Arthur blinked back tears as the memories came to life again in his mind, pushed back for so many years yet still clear whenever he dared to think of them. His voice shook as he continued. "Gwaine was going to defy us both, but you told him all was as it was meant to be. I had loved you enough to make it quick, as you'd asked. With my blade at your neck, ready to sever your spinal cord, I begged you one last time to use your magic, to escape. You wouldn't, though. Instead, you soothed me, told me you forgave me. And then I killed you. I felt the blade slip through your skin. Saw you fall. Saw only peace on your face."

Arthur looked up then, feeling Merlin's arms wrap around him from behind. He leaned into them, absorbing their warmth, remembering all the times he had made love to his very alive best friend. He used those memories to strengthen himself against the awful visions now brought to his mind. Merlin was alive, wrapped protectively around him. He drank it all in, allowed it to wash away the feel of resistance in his blade, the spurt of blood... there was only that warmth behind him.

"What a burden it must have been, to bear those memories all these years," Merlin whispered sympathetically. "To keep them secret."

Arthur shook his head, turning to return the embrace of his lover. "I need you to know, it wasn't a lack of trust. _I_ killed you, Merlin. With my own hands. The memory… I can still feel your blood on my hands. And then when you did really die, when your secret came out, it was too close. Too much to remember the blade and the dead weight of you in my arms."

Merlin nodded. "Your nightmares." Arthur had always had occasional nightmares, and had rarely spoken of them, through the years. But after Merlin had actually died, they'd become so much worse. Still. Merlin hadn't pressed. Arthur had told him he'd share when he was ready, and he had accepted his King's word. They had gotten better over the last year, but they still came up occasionally.

"When we talked about why you kept it from me, I understood your fears. So much more than you thought. You've never been afraid of death, Merlin. Not even at my hand. It's what scares me so much," Arthur whispered, unable to resist leaning in to kiss his lover, to remind himself the younger man was very much alive. He drew back. "You need to eat. Sit."

They sat then, picking at the already meager meal assembled. It was Merlin who broke the brooding silence. "And the first vision?"

"That was much the same life as we've lived this time, with some few changes. But I remained oblivious of your magic until after the battle at Camlann."

Merlin frowned, feeling something hum inside of him. It was similar to the feeling he got whenever he saw Gwen and Arthur together. "Camlann? I don't remember a battle there?"

Arthur offered a small smile. "Because of the choices I made, we managed to avoid it. Mordred, a young druid boy, was destined to be my end. In the first vision, he succeeded. In our timeline, the young druid boy you and Morgana were hiding didn't survive his injuries."

Merlin frowned. "I remember. He died shortly after we found him. Morgana was devastated. I felt guilty for months because I hadn't realized his injuries were so bad."

Arthur cleared his throat. "They weren't. I snuck into Morgana's rooms one night. Told him I understood he was sick, and that the remedy I gave him would ease his pain. I sat with him, telling him some of the stories my mother's maid servant would tell me, held him in my arms so he would feel safe. He fell asleep at peace. He never woke again."

Merlin stared at him, wide eyed, shaking his head. "No, Arthur… that's not possible… "

"It is. One of the many choices I've made over the years. It was about more than saving my life, Merlin. The destruction he brought to Camelot… his actions would cost the lives of hundreds of my people. His ultimate alliance with Morgana would be the end of Albion. And you… " Arthur took a deep breath. "The first vision, I saw through _your_ eyes, lived through your body, and felt through _your_ emotions. The pain he would bring you over the years was indescribable. It is my sin, to have taken the life of a child, but he was no innocent, and I would make the same choice again. One life weighed against the many. It is my duty, then as Prince, now as King, to continue to make that choice as often as I must. That's what leadership _means_."

"But why didn't you just report his whereabouts to your Father? Then he would have... it wouldn't have been _your_ hand that took his life," Merlin asked softly, understanding the burden that was royalty. It wasn't all banquets and wars. "It would have been easier to carry, a little."

Arthur looked at him honestly. "Because I'm no coward, Merlin. Choices like that should never _be_ easy. The man he became was evil, not the child he was. The child deserved to fall gracefully into slumber, not stand terrified in front a whipped up crowd. For all the stain on my soul, it was the one justice I could afford him."

Merlin shook his head. "I don't understand, Arthur, if you always knew what would happen next…"

"I didn't. Once I made a third choice, one not presented to me in the visions, I changed everything. We were living an unwritten future. Some things could never be changed, of course, no matter how much I tried. Mostly things that involved the destinies of others. Morgana, for instance, was a result of Uther's choices, not mine." He sighed. "The memories sat outside my reality, like a dream barely remembered, until the events themselves were happening. Then I would be reminded. I learned, over time, to realize the earlier and stronger the memories came back, the more likely it was I had a chance to change the outcome. Sometimes they didn't come back until after the event. I had to learn to accept that too."

"You said Mordred succeeded at the end?"

Arthur nodded. "Because of you, we won the battle of Camlann, but Mordred had stabbed me with a special sword that left a fragment that traveled slowly to my heart. You did everything you could to save me. You even told me you were born to serve me. As I was you, at the time, I know how deeply in your heart you believed that. When I asked you why you never told me, you were honest with me. Told me you never wanted to put me in a position where I would be forced to choose. I begged you never to change, on that journey. It hurt you, to know you couldn't fulfill that request if I died." Arthur shook his head, remembering. "We reached the end with the Isle of the Blessed within view, but I knew I wouldn't make it a step more. It devastated you. I finally knew you, knew all you had done, and finally accepted your magic. I even thanked you. I guess I was still a selfish prat even then, not understanding how much more those words would hurt coming only at the end."

Merlin blinked back tears when he heard how differently things could have turned out. "What was your third choice?"

"To remember," Arthur answered, popping some cheese into his mouth. "To accept that when I woke from the Questing Beast- both timelines assured I would, thanks to you- I would have all the knowledge I had gained. That included the knowledge of your magic. Two lifetimes of mistakes, Merlin. When you came to my chambers that night, said those things, this time… this time I knew it was a good bye. I was frustrated, because it had already been done. There was nothing I could do to change what was about to happen. I thought I was so clever, in making that choice, in choosing to deny the ending of either vision. But that night- that's when I truly understood the high cost of knowledge. That I had chosen not only hope, but also a life cursed."

"Oh, Arthur," Merlin whispered sadly. He knew something of the weight of carrying a lifetime of secrets. Arthur had carried not one, but three! Having to second guess every choice he made, every action he took. He knew that weight could feel like it was crushing at times.

"I made mistakes, Merlin, I won't deny it. Like I said, the memories didn't always come in time to stop me from acting a fool, or even from hurting you. The one thing it seemed I couldn't change was the work it was going to take for you to turn me into a decent human being."

"You were always a decent human being, Arthur. You just needed the chance to show it, to believe it yourself." Merlin frowned. Some unpleasant thoughts began to occur to him. "Arthur, when you lived as me, how much did you see?"

"My first memory is saving my sorry arse, the day my father made you my manservant. Then, it was bits and pieces. Always connected to when you used magic to save me, or Camelot. I could always sense a passing of time in between. There were some events I had absolutely no memories of, finding out only later that they had occurred. It always worried me when that happened. It made me worry I had caused it by the choice I made, had opened the opportunity for it."

Merlin shuddered as his King's words echoed the thoughts of the Prince's journal that lay on a table across the room. Arthur seemed to follow, and reached across to grab his hand, giving it a squeeze. The warlock squeezed back, grateful to know his entire life hadn't been on display for the King. He had felt slightly violated by Arthur's knowledge of life through his eyes, but it seemed magic done what it did with a definitive purpose, with distinctive points of interaction.

"So, now you know. My secret is out, too." Arthur sighed. "Does it help? To think of how to undo what Morgana has done?"

Merlin smiled. "It helps to understand what you've been through. The burdens you've carried. It's also important to know that if your journal is correct, then you knew about my magic when Catrina came into Camelot. It explains a lot of your actions."

Arthur snorted. "I have always believed, Merlin, that the whole Troll scenario was magic having a grand sense of humor in issuing justice to my father. Yes, I knew about your magic, but the memories from that other timeline were so scattered. Seconds shown to me with no knowledge of the hours before or after. And they weren't revealed to me until after you managed to end the spell hiding her. In fact the only clear memory I have is you being trapped, desperate. I think a part of you called out for me, then. And then nothing until you popped out from under my bed. From there, only the moments we were together, and of course, your ingenious idea to kill me."

Merlin sniffed. "Believe it or not, _that_ was Gaius. And it took considerable convincing on his part to get me to agree. Ultimately, I knew he was right. I'm sorry to say it, Arthur, but Uther isn't you. You genuinely care about your people, and we could have found another way. He never did. You, and your mother, were literally the _only_ thing he's ever loved enough to shed tears."

"I'm not blind to my father's faults, Merlin. There's no need to worry about sullying my memories of him."

"I don't!"

Arthur snorted. "You _do_! Almost as a second nature. All these years later, and you're _still_ protecting him by constantly trying to protect me _from_ him. You refuse to let me be angry with him, even when he deserves it most. I understand why. But it doesn't serve a purpose now. Suffice to say there are enough gaps in my memory to know there's a lot that happened outside of my realm of vision."

Merlin shook his head. "It was a very long time ago, Arthur. My memories aren't very clear either. And it's impossible to know what knowledge Morgana has of those events. She wasn't a big player in all of it. In order for her to choose _that_ time, we have to assume she somehow knows more than her own memories can tell us. Believe me, I can think of plenty of other points in our lives where it would have been far more convenient to kill me."

Arthur flinched, but nodded. "All right. So. How do we find where she cast from?"

"We've found it. I was tracking it while you were looking around." He nodded toward his old room. "She cast it there, where a connection with me would be strong. I had no intention of staying any longer in this space than I had to, Arthur. But you caught up with me here, and it sounds like it was for the best. My next stop would have been your old chambers."

Arthur shuddered to think of Merlin walking into the same scene he had. Given his lovers reaction to merely hearing about it, he thanked whatever spirits were watching over them that Merlin had been spared that sight.

"So... do you think you can reproduce what she did?"

Merlin ducked his head, shuddering in horror. " _No_. Her magic was dark, evil. I can feel a year's worth of blood, pain and misery in that room. She's been planning this for a very long time. On my darkest day, I could _never_ do what she did. She sacrificed what little was left of her humanity to accomplish this." He took a deep breath, looking away from the small space. "What I have to cast is considerably more complicated. And a lot more unpredictable. Arthur, you have to understand, what we're going to attempt is stupidly risky. It was stupid when it was just me attempting it. With both of us…" Merlin trailed off, looking guilty.

Arthur sighed, moving to sit next to the younger man, putting an arm around his shoulder and kissing his cheek. "Merlin, I'm not as blind as you think. The poison, the Cave… you've almost died more times in the last weeks than I can count and you've not had a chance to recover from any of it. Now we're facing a very powerful spell that will likely take a lot out of you when you're barely strong enough to stand. And I would do _anything_ to make it easier on you. Even stay behind, if I thought for a _moment_ it would help. But our plans _always_ work out best when we're together, when we're fighting side by side. And if this spells leaves you in any way incapacitated, then this whole thing is doomed to fail. I swear, this isn't me simply being stubborn and over-protective. I feel like you'll need me to be the strength you lack."

Merlin leaned tiredly against his lover. For a man that was hard muscle through and through, Arthur had turned out to be surprisingly comfortable. Or perhaps it was the strength and support that incredible chest _offered_ that was comforting. He didn't know which. He didn't care. Arthur wasn't wrong. "There's so much I don't know about this spell. I have no idea how much time we'll have before we'll have to act. The only thing I _do_ know, with absolute certainty, is how careful we have to be not to change anything else," Merlin warned.

"So, how will it work? Will we go back and replace ourselves?" Arthur asked as he tore off a small piece of cheese from the warlock's nearly untouched plate, then encouraged Merlin to take it from him with his mouth. Merlin scowled at him, but took it without objection, focusing on the answer to his King's question.

Merlin shook his head, chewing thoughtfully. "I considered that- Soul Travel would be easier than physically taking us- but things have to move along exactly as they did. We've changed, and experienced, too much to be able to accomplish that. Especially given the humor of the event as we look back on it… see? You can't even _think_ of it without laughing!" Merlin accused. "How could you even look your father in the eye without laughing?"

Arthur coughed, cutting off his laughter, nodding. "All right, I see your point. So. We're physically going back. We just need to avoid anyone who knows us well enough to know the difference while we look for her." Arthur frowned, then. "Merlin, will she be able to sense your spell? Could that give her warning?"

Merlin frowned as more food was put into his mouth. "You've inconveniently learned a lot in a very short amount of time," he growled. "Yes, Arthur. She will be able to sense it. Every magical being will be able to. That kind of power, what I have to draw on to do this..." He shook his head. "There's no way to ignore it. I'm hoping that luck is with us, though, and she may believe it simply an aftershock of what she's done. A lot depends on how much earlier she gets there than us."

"Either that, or it's a trap and she's got wards in place that could, what, stop us? Incinerate any source of magic strong enough to pull off time travel?"

"Definitely learned far too much," Merlin sighed. "I've considered that, as well. It'll take some extra steps on my part, but I will be putting certain safeties into place. There's nothing I can do to mask that we _have_ done _something_ , but I should be able to cover our trail enough that she can't begin to guess at _what,_ or be able to determine the exact source. It'll feel like an echo of a wave."

Arthur tensed behind him. "This is going to cost you, isn't it?"

Merlin didn't think there was any point in lying to him. "Greatly."


	10. Chapter 10

Merlin blinked as sunlight hit his face. He lifted his head, surprised to find himself stretched over his lover on the old cot Gaius used for patients. It was a small bed, but neither of them could bring themselves to enter the small room in the back. He found himself held in place by a strong arm wrapped around his hips, with his own arm stretched over the plated muscles of Arthur's abdomen.

Arthur had insisted on a nights rest before they made this attempt, but the sunlight filtering in was well past noon.

"Good morning," Arthur greeted, running his fingers over the arm his hand had just been wrapped protectively around. He'd been awake for some time, but refused to move, refused to wake the man sleeping on him. They'd been up late while Merlin searched through Gaius' books to find the spell.

Merlin frowned. "It's much later than morning," he accused, sitting up.

Arthur shrugged. "We're about to travel back in time. I didn't think a few hours difference in when we left would matter. We both needed the rest."

Merlin went to his pack, digging through it, sighing when all he found was the black pants and tunic he had packed. It had been over a year since he'd seen his old peasant clothing. He shrugged. They'd already discussed that they had no hope of blending into that time. Arthur had filled out since his youth- in all the right ways, he happened to believe- and there were lines of age and wear on his face that hadn't been there then. Still the most beautiful man Merlin would ever see, but definitely matured. For Merlin, time hadn't touched him with nearly so heavy a hand. Arthur was convinced that between the two of them, Merlin could easily pass for his 17 year old self. Especially since the poison had managed to take away whatever parts of him that had filled out after months of a good living. He was, perhaps, even more slight now than his frame had been back then.

Except there was the slight problem of their eyes. Their time in the cave had had an odd side effect in creating permanent crowns of magic gold around both their iris's. It was impossible to hide, and Arthur refused to rely on Merlin being strong enough to create glamor illusions to hide them.

In fact, the King had strictly commanded that absolutely no magic that wasn't necessary be used while they were there. Neither of them really wanted to be stuck in the past. Merlin unfolded the warm, dark blue cloak that was embroidered with silver vines and leaves. As well as the crest of the Great Tree with a Dragon's silhouette behind it that Arthur had had created when he'd raised Merlin to nobility. It, too, was embroidered in silver and gold thread that took up most of the back of the cloak. The collar of the cloak was lined with a black and silver fox fur that Gwen had been delighted to find. The cloak and clothes were nearly as fine as those Arthur was now wearing, having also changed his dust caked clothes for clean. It had been a long time since he'd felt the need to hide behind his peasant rags.

"You _have_ changed, you know," Arthur spoke from behind him, and he turned, cloak still in hand, raising a questioning eyebrow. "Not in age. Time hasn't touched you that way, unless you look into your eyes. But you haven't carried yourself as merely a servant for a very long time. You've been accepted, and respected, as a powerful member of rank, as someone more accustomed to have people bowing to him than bowing himself. You hold yourself with a confidence you used to only have when facing off against the latest evil. Or me," he teased with a smile to gentle the sting of his words. "I was wrong, if I stand back to look without biased, in a way. Yes, you could easily be 17 again. But you could never be a servant again." He handed Merlin the silver sapphire Circlet he'd had made as a symbol of Merlin's rank, motioning for him to put it on. "So if we can't go disguised, then we should be as obvious as possible that we are who we may have to say we are."

Merlin frowned, hating that Ian always insisted the thing was in his travel pack whenever he left the castle. Apparently, his manservant hadn't thought dying would be a good enough reason to exempt it this time either. "Arthur, the point is to avoid everyone. Anyone we come into contact with becomes a stone thrown into a pond. We'd likely never see the ripples."

"I sincerely hope to avoid that, but it's always a good idea to plan for the worst, anyway." He hesitated. "We may need help. We don't know if Morgana traveled physically, or if she Soul Traveled. Her younger self would have no problem acting as she had those days. You said it yourself."

Merlin nodded, finally tying on the Circlet. "If we must ask for help, Arthur, the only two people we can trust are my younger self, and Gaius. If I'm incapacitated, go to them for help. Explain everything. He'll trust you, where Gaius will question, especially if he takes the time to look at you. I think we may have to see him, once it's all over, to help us get back anyway. He's far stronger than I am now."

Arthur nodded. "I agree. My younger self wouldn't ready for this, not yet." He slid his sword into its scabbard at his hip. Merlin had warned that they could take only what was on their persons. "Ready?"

Merlin took a deep breath, and together they entered the small space. It was cleaner than either remembered, but likely would have been emptied after he'd died. Merlin shivered as he felt the essence of the dark magic that had been recently used in this space. Even stretching from a different timeline, it rested heavily on his magic.

He rolled up his sleeves, producing a dagger. Arthur's eyes went wide, and he automatically reached out to grab the hand holding the sharp instrument, frowning. "You never mentioned this!" he hissed. He eyed the small crystal hanging from a cord around Merlin's neck. When the warlock had insisted on bringing it out of the Cave, Arthur had assumed _that_ would be the power they'd be using to do this. "Merlin, you don't have nearly the strength needed for blood magic!"

"Good magic knows not to mess with time, and there is nothing within it that would allow for what we need to do. For all my power, Arthur, my magic is good at its core. It can't accomplish this on its own. Blood sacrifice _is_ required to invoke some small part of the darker magics."

"Then take mine," Arthur growled, understanding now why Merlin had not gone into the specifics of the spell. Arthur determined then that he'd learn to at least read the magic language so the warlock couldn't hide anything from him again.

Merlin shook his head. "I can't use that of another or else I'd have to do what _she_ did. I won't do that, Arthur. I feel sick even touching this small part of that kind of evil. It must be mine, must be hearts blood, the sacrifice and intent pure." Merlin patiently waited for Arthur to slowly let go of his hand. "It's important, Arthur, that there be 6 cuts, 3 times per spell and I have to repeat the spell twice. If I falter, you'll _have_ to finish them. Deep enough to bleed considerably, but be careful not to cut too deep, like skinning a rabbit without puncturing the innards. Do you understand? Once we start, it _must_ be finished or the result will be disastrous," Merlin told his lover firmly. He waited until Arthur nodded his acceptance. He leaned forward kissing his King for all he was worth. If this was to be their last…

"Don't," Arthur murmured against his lips. "Don't kiss me like this is good bye. It's not," he insisted firmly, then pushed with his tongue to gain entrance into his sanctuary. He'd never tire of this, of the flavor that was distinctly _his_ Merlin. Where Merlin's kiss was sad, he poured all of his convictions of success into it, urging his own strength to flow through to the warlock.

Pulling back, Merlin leaned his forehead against Arthur's. "Hold me, as tightly as you can. Don't let go, no matter what happens." He turned so that his back was against the solid chest, felt Arthur's arm go around him, pull him so tight he could barely breathe. He raised his arms in front of him, and began the spell. He drew as much of his magic as he could to him, drew more still from the faint hum of the crystal hanging over his heart. As he spoke words in the ancient tongue, he slashed his wrist three times, then did the same to his other wrist. A circle began to glow around them, and he held his arms out in front, making fists to push the tiny streams of blood to fall steadily into the circle.

He blinked as dizziness washed over him, and his legs buckled. His King held him firm, kept him upright. Determined to spare Arthur the pain it would cause him to have to finish, he forced command into his voice as he repeated the spell once more, hoping as he held his arms out for the second blood sacrifice that his trembling hands had managed to cut deep enough. New words spilled from him, words whispered by the Crystal, until he shouted the last one.

He was relieved as the circle of magic beneath them rose up to engulf them in light even as he fell into darkness.

_**MERLIN10101010101010101MERLIN** _

Gaius looked up, startled, when he heard the loud crash from Merlin's room. Strange, he'd sent the boy to gather some herbs for him and thought he was gone. He moved swiftly across the room, cursing that Merlin had, once again, left the room while Arthur's enchanted laundry cleaned itself. He was growling even as he pushed open the door. "Damn fool boy!"

He stopped, stunned, to see Arthur and Merlin standing in the room in between the bed and the window, a glowing light already fading around them. He blinked, taking in the blood, the golden glow returning to blue in the warlock's eyes. "What-" but he never got a chance to finish. This other version of Merlin collapsed so suddenly Arthur barely had time to brace himself for it despite the fact the younger man was already held tightly in his arms.

"Gaius! Help him!" Arthur commanded.

"Who are you?" He took a moment to watch a familiar but slightly different version of Arthur pick the boy up and gently lay him on the bed. There was a tenderness and intimacy in those movements that he'd never seen from the Prince. Then his eyes took in the boy on the bed. He looked the same, only dressed in finer clothing with a silver circlet. Blood flowed still from both arms from what looked like cuts.

"Gaius! I will answer all your questions, but please… he needs help!" Not Arthur urged. Gaius could see that. Much longer and the boy on the bed would bleed out. He moved carefully into the room. Not Arthur moved back, trying to make himself as nonthreatening as possible. "Where's Merlin? He can Heal him."

Gaius frowned, examining the wrists. Only two of the cuts were deep enough to require stitching, but it was obvious they had been done very intentionally. He ignored the Not Arthur's obvious intention to use magic. The Not Merlin lying on the bed was frail, thin, and pale. He'd lost a great deal of blood, it seemed, though his Physician's eye could pick up signs of other problems older than the cuts. He turned and grabbed two pieces of cloth, then thrust them into Not Arthur's hands. "Hold this tightly to his wrists. Very tightly, now. I've got to get some things. Keep that pressure on, even if he wakes."

His eyebrows rose sharply when Not Arthur obeyed without hesitation or question. Answers would come later, he decided. He needed to save this Merlin first.

_**MERLIN10101010101010MERLIN** _

Gaius finally sat back, his work completed. He hadn't spoken at all, and Not Arthur had hovered so much that Gaius had thrown him into the front room to get him out of the way. The quick chuckle and easy compliance had surprised him.

Now that he had done all he could, he took a moment to examine this finely dressed Merlin. The boy was unconscious, and there were signs of suffering, but otherwise he could be the Merlin Gaius had sent out earlier this morning. He carefully reached out and untied the Circlet and cloak so the boy could rest easier. Whoever he was, he needed it. Sliding the fine cloak out from under the limp body, he gently put the blanket over him. Closing his eyes, he woke the sleeping magic within him, offering what little Healing he could. It wasn't much, but it would help speed the recovery. Something dire indeed had to have occurred to make any version of Merlin desperate enough to use a form of magic Gaius had forever warned him never to use. "You _are_ my boy," Gaius whispered. "I can feel that. What have you done? And why?"

He sighed. Those answers were currently pacing his outer chamber. He took the items with him as he went to get them.

Not Arthur was still energetically wearing a hole in his floor when he exited, stopping to look hopefully at him as he came down the small set of stairs. Gaius was slightly taken aback by the frantic worry in his tone, the anxiety rolling off him in nearly palpable waves. "How is he? I can't sense... normally I can connect even in this state, but there's nothing... Gaius! _Will_ he be all right?"

"I have done what I can, and that is the only answer you're going to get until you explain to me _what_ is going on!" Gaius said firmly, distrustfully.

The man nodded immediately, taking a deep breath to calm himself. "Of course. I _am_ Arthur, Gaius, I am simply not _Prince_ Arthur. I'm King now, have been for some time," he offered with a sheepish smile. His expression was openly fond as he looked at the older man. "It _is_ good to see you again, old friend," he whispered.

Gaius's eyebrows rose to his hairline, and he _really_ looked at him. Yes. He looked like Arthur. Older. Harder. But that carriage seemed perfectly natural for someone who had ruled a kingdom, with all its responsibilities. No, if there was doubt remaining, it was in the openness this Arthur had in his expression. Prince Arthur had always been a closed man, very reserved. There was little of that to be seen in the expressive eyes looking at him now. Gaius gasped, doing a double take as he took in the gold crowns in those almost recognizable blue eyes.

Arthur seemed to understand what he was seeing, and nodded, waving a hand nervously toward his eyes. "It's because of the Bond. I had to use it to save him in the Crystal Cave, and when it connected me with the ancient magic, it left, uh, an impression on us. He has the same in his eyes."

The casual mention of Magic from the King's mouth had Gaius sitting down, hard, in shock. Was it possible? Merlin certainly had the potential to be powerful enough to accomplish it. It would explain the blood magic. But to be powerful enough to carry _two_ of them, _physically_ , through time itself... it should have killed the Merlin now merely unconscious in the room.

Just then, the door to his chambers opened and Merlin- young Merlin- came bustling through. "Gaius, I'm sorry, but Arthur caught me on the way out and needed me to- whoa! Arthur!" Merlin skidded to a halt as he took in the man standing in the room. Then he really looked, his eyes going wide.

Arthur was amused when, knowing him as well as he did, he saw the subtle shift of harried become defensive. What a brave boy, he thought, knowing he was instantly ready to protect his mentor. He drank in the small amount of youth and innocence still left in those azure eyes, despite the way they flashed distrustfully at him, subtly warning him off. Arthur acknowledged that silent threat with a small nod, which made the boy's eyes widen even further in surprise.

It was Gaius who eased it. "Merlin, this is _King_ Arthur."

Merlin looked uncertainly at his guardian. A part of him wanted to make a smart remark about the Prince getting ahead of himself, but a closer look revealed this was not his current Master. If the age lines weren't a giveaway, the odd eyes and slight nod accepting his intent to protect, were. Which left magic. He immediately threw up his hands in surrender. "I _swear_ , Gaius, I haven't done anything!"

"No, that would be me." A weak chuckle came from across the room, and everyone turned to see Not Merlin leaning heavily against the door frame, the arms supporting himself already shaking. Before either Gaius or the young sorcerer had a chance to take it in, King Arthur was already at the man's side, ducking under his arm to take his weight, scowling at him in a way both men found incredibly familiar, but yet somehow very different. Again, Gaius was struck on the difference of the closed off Prince to the expressive King.

"You shouldn't be up yet!" Arthur growled protectively. Merlin smiled tiredly at the man.

"I thought it would be helpful with the explanation. There are some questions you can't answer," he panted, closing his eyes. "Arthur, I need to sit," Merlin confessed quietly. The trip out of the room had worn what little reserves he had, and his legs were about to buckle. Arthur didn't hesitate to reach down and pick him up, frowning in concern when he felt his lover sink heavily against him, felt the tremors in the muscles against him.

Gaius watched, eyebrows having now taken root in his scalp, as King Arthur handled Older Merlin with care, and an easy familiarity as he carried him over to the bench, easing him onto it, then positioning himself in such a way that the boy- no, young man, hardly a boy any longer despite the youthful appearance- was able to lean his weight against the King's chest. One arm was slung protectively around the slim waist.

The King finally looked at the other two men in the room. He sighed, and held his chin up. "I am King Arthur of Camelot, Keeper of the Five Kingdom Alliance, Defender of Justice and Law, High Knight of Camelot and Liege to Vassal Province of Dumnonia. I present also Court Sorcerer, Prince Consort Merlin, Dragon Lord of the Great Dragon, Lord of Ealdor of Camelot, Duke of De Bois and a First Knight of Albion." He felt the stir in his arms about that last title, but he stilled it quickly. "If you need proof, Gaius, look at the circlet and cloak you're holding. You saw him arrive in it. You know the law for impersonating nobility."

Younger Merlin had his mouth hanging open, his eyes instinctively darting to the older version of himself, looking the for the slight nod of confirmation he got, the small smile. It was then the saw the magical gold crown in Merlin's eyes, and he gasped, finally taking in what all those titles meant. Arthur _knew_. Wherever- whenever- they were from, this Arthur knew, and accepted!

Arthur watched as both men examined the cloak the older physician was still holding, finding the Crest on the back. The dragons on the circlet were also examined, and Arthur wished that he'd known enough of this adventure to bring the cuffs that had Kilgharrah etched in great detail. As it was, his word would have to do. He felt his lover tense slightly against him, obviously in pain. He needed to be resting sooner rather than later, and Arthur wanted to get through convincing the other two quickly.

"There is a threat to Camelot, to all of Albion, in this time. We've come back to prevent it. Being as we're from the future, Mer- the Prince Consort," he corrected, thinking it would be less confusing, "has already warned me not to say too much. I'm to let you, Gaius, ask what questions you'd need to secure your help, but I'm not to volunteer information."

"And you're going to listen?" Young Merlin snorted in disbelief, laughing.

King Arthur looked at him seriously, though with a hint of sympathy. "Of course," he replied with quiet confidence, trying to relay comfort to the boy that things would get better. "But first, Merlin, this spell cost him. Can you Heal him?" Arthur asked. He ignored the hand that went to his arm.

Merlin frowned, looking at Gaius. The older man sighed. "Sire, I have already cast what I can on him, though I'm regretting it since he very much should still be resting. It's good to know some things never change," he teased, throwing a knowing sidelong glance at the younger version. "As your Prince Consort knows, Healing is not Merlin's specialty. The power to cast such a spell, the strain- he's lucky to be alive. Time and rest are what he needs most right now. I have some pain remedies that he'll likely be grateful for once our _short_ discussion is completed," Gaius emphasized. "Though I _should_ be giving you both a stern lecture on the dangers of what you've done! Blood magic is not to take lightly! I spare you only because I know Merlin, and I know it must be a dire threat indeed to take such a risk with not only his own, but _your_ life as well, Arthur."

The Prince Consort laughed fondly. "I've missed you, Gaius." Then he blushed, and opened his mouth to explain, but Arthur took his hand, squeezed it, and dropped a kiss to the mop of hair resting against his shoulder.

"It's all right, I did the same." He caught the quick hitch of Merlin's breathing, and the slight arching against him, recognized the lines of pain on his lovers face. "Rest. Let me do this." He looked to Gaius. "Do you require any further proof that only he can give? Or questions only he can answer?"

Gaius felt his heart nearly burst when he watched the tender exchange, heard the fierce protectiveness. So much more than he could have ever hoped for! Not only accepted, but evidently greatly cherished. He was certain this was not a display for their benefit. There was too much habit in it, with an obvious level of comfort that only came with long standing intimacy. For all his suffering, there would be good to come. A glance at his own ward made him chuckle, as the young man was obvious confused by the undertones. Someday, Gaius thought.

His boy was happy, which mattered far more to him than the fact that he was obviously dead. "I wouldn't know where to begin with questions- no, Merlin, we can't know more than we absolutely have to! As it is, I sincerely hope these two have a memory spell prepared?"

The Prince Consort nodded weakly, which caused an answering scowl from the King. The forthcoming objection was stilled with a murmur of the King's name. Clearing his throat, King Arthur changed what he had been about to say. "How long ago was Gwen taken prisoner by Hengist?"

Gaius frowned. "It's been a month, I'd say, or near enough."

Arthur nodded, thinking. "Then we're about 3 days early?" He looked to his lover for confirmation of his remembered timeline. "That's good. Have you noticed anyone acting strangely?" He thought back, then winced. "I mean, besides myself? I've likely been even more of a Prat lately than usual."

Merlin's eyes shot up in surprise. "You really _are_ you! From the future!"

"No, Arthur. Not that I can think of. It's actually been unusually quiet," Gaius answered, casting an irritated glance at his ward.

"Has anyone... arrived recently?" Gaius frowned, not liking the breathless quality to the Consort's voice, but shook his head.

"One young nobleman this morning, hoping to become a Knight. From what I've heard, he's not likely to succeed. The Prince is being particularly difficult in his testing."

"What... about Morgana?" The Consort asked. "Can you ask Gwen, subtly, if... everything seems all right with her? I know... they've both been... through a lot recently, but she should be… able… to… ah..." He closed his eyes, his hands tightening over Arthur's as he tensed, the soft cry of pain audible enough to everyone in the room.

"That's enough," The King announced, easily lifting his Consort as he stood. "Gaius, get the pain remedy. Merlin, we're going to borrow your room for now. Go to the kitchens and get us some broth."

Merlin and Gaius exchanged glances before they moved to obey.

_**MERLIN10101010101010MERLIN** _

King Arthur sat in front the fire, enjoying a goblet of wine. His lover had been resting for hours, the pain remedy seeming to have given him some peace, though Gaius was checking on him again now to be sure. Young Merlin had needed to go serve Prince Arthur.

Their discussions had been difficult. Arthur hadn't anticipated how challenging it would be to get the information they needed without giving away a lot more than they already had. He'd been frustrated with Merlin's agreement of the memory spell- he all too clearly remembered Gaius's ire the last time they had risked one when the warlock was in less than ideal condition- but was beginning to understand it better.

They had to stay low for 3 days. Where could they stay? Merlin was weak enough that Arthur didn't want to take him too far from the physician, so the woods were out of the question.

"You've changed, Arthur," Gaius spoke, taking a seat beside him. "So has he."

Arthur smiled. "Time will do that. This last year has been particularly rough."

Gaius nodded, a sadness in his eyes. "I noticed the scars. Some quite recent. A part of me wants to ask, but another part knows it might break my heart."

Arthur reached over and patted him on the shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. "There has been good, too. You can take comfort in that."

"I can see that, Sire. It gives me a great deal of comfort."

Arthur blushed, clearing his throat. "How is he?"

"Weak, in pain from the strain of the spell, the cuts on his arms, and some of those scars are still tender. I get the feeling he was also recently very ill. I'm concerned he's pushed himself too far for too long, demanded too much of himself. And evidently still has much to do."

Arthur nodded, closing his eyes, leaning his head back against the chair. "He was poisoned. We took him to the Crystal Cave for help. It was our last option, we'd tried everything else. The ancient magic cured him, but Balinor- yes, Gaius, I know- came to me there. He told me that while we were in the protection of the Cave, someone had changed the future. That we had to return to fix it. It was… Gaius, it was bad. I knew he wasn't strong enough for this, but I also know we had no choice. I swear, I would _never_ have risked him, otherwise."

Gaius smiled. "You care about him a great deal."

Arthur nodded, admitting without reserve, "I love him." He chuckled. "Prince Arthur is very confused right now. I almost feel sorry for your Merlin. I wasn't very kind while I tried to figure out my feelings. Adding Gwen to the mix didn't help."

Gaius laughed too. "Of the many curses of age, Arthur, hindsight is by far the worst."

"Cheers to that," Arthur agreed, holding up his goblet before taking a drink. He hesitated. "Gaius… you know he's in no shape to do a memory spell. We still need to get back. You once drove it pointedly into my thick skull how dangerous they are. He can't do both. It's too risky for us to stay in this time any longer than we have to. Getting back _has_ to be our priority. Unfortunately, there is absolutely no way to do that without him."

The physician nodded. "I know. I will take care of it for my Merlin. Probably once he returns this evening. So short a time will not be difficult and would be within my minimal power. It's important that his destiny not be interfered with, though it saddens me a little to take this hope for the future from him. Some joy in an old man's heart to know Merlin's sacrifices were justified will be just one of many secrets I keep."

Arthur nodded. "We can't stay here. Is there anywhere you can suggest?"

"I would suggest staying here, actually. I can ask Prince Arthur to let Merlin sleep in the Antechamber for a few days. Perhaps hint that I'm working with some dangerous experiments. But your Merlin needs as much rest as possible, and I'd like to treat some of the residual affects of his recent illness. With some magical help, I think I can have him as ready as possible for this next trial very quickly."

Arthur smiled his gratitude. "Thank you."

"And you, my boy? How have _you_ been?"

Arthur startled, then laughed. "I'm good, Gaius. If he'd stop almost dying on me, I'd be even better." He sighed, hearing the thinly veiled bitterness behind the joking words. "I'm sorry, my friend. I didn't mean it to sound like that."

"You forget how well I know him, Arthur. I can imagine his penchant for being in harms' way hasn't changed any."

"You would be right. It's easier, though, now that I know about it. I'm willing to accept it's a part of who he is, Gaius. Now he just has to learn protecting him is a part of who _I_ am. If you take no other surety of the future, know that no harm will ever come to him that is within my power to prevent," Arthur promised.

"If I never got the chance to say it, Arthur, thank you, for being there for him. It can't have been easy."

"Loving him is easy, Gaius," Arthur smiled, trying not to let show just how much those words meant to him. Then he laughed, slapping his old friend on the knee lightly. " _Living_ with him on the other hand..."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Slashy Bits ahead!
> 
> MERLIN10101010110MERLIN

Arthur sighed as he watched as 'Lady Catrina' was escorted into the Castle from the small window in Merlin's room. So it was to begin. Three days, and still no closer to finding Morgana, or knowing just how she would attack. They knew Merlin would survive until he'd had a chance to break the enchantment on Uther. Beyond that, nothing was certain. They didn't even know _how_ Morgana was going to attempt to kill him.

He watched as a young Merlin trailed after the older physician. Gaius had indeed spelled a memory potion, knocking out just a few hours of the day they had arrived. Since then, he'd been sleeping in the Prince's antechamber with strict instructions to stay away until Gaius said it was all right for him to return.

"She's here?"

Arthur turned from the window, happy to see his lover awake. Gaius had been plying him with remedies and all sorts of potions to help him regain his strength. The King was pleased to see that they seemed to be working rather well, even if they kept him asleep more often than awake. Merlin's color had returned to its healthy state, and the too thin frame even appeared to be filling a little in the short time. Gaius had felt comfortable enough with his progress to lay off the sleeping draughts. He sat on the edge of the small bed, frowning.

"How _did_ you sleep on this for so many years?" he grumbled.

Merlin laughed. "You do remember sleeping on the floor at my mother's?" He shifted, wincing. "I will admit to missing the softness of my bed in our time, though. Or yours. Yours is good too," he grinned.

"How are you feeling?"

"Surprisingly good. I do miss Gaius's remedies. I may have to take it easy on the magic- it's a little sluggish- but physically I haven't felt this good in a long while."

"That's good. And yes, she just arrived. I could swear I just saw a tail on Jonas." Merlin nodded. Arthur shook his head. "How on earth did I miss that?"

Merlin smirked. "Your mind was on other matters around this time, if I recall."

Arthur leaned over and kissed his cheeky lover. "It was, but you'd be surprised at what." He stood. "There's some stew keeping warm. I'll be back."

"Arthur," Merlin groaned, sitting up. "I'm _fine_. Certainly well enough to go out there to eat." He reached up and grabbed the front of Arthur's tunic, pulling sharply enough that the King fell onto him. "See?"

Arthur grinned, nuzzling the crotch he found his nose had fallen into. He pulled down the blanket so that it was bare. Merlin gasped and moaned as Arthur gently coaxed the shaft to life using his tongue. Once it was standing proud, he gave it a nip before taking it into his mouth, creating a strong suction. A strong arm across Merlin's hips was the only thing that prevented the younger man from bucking too hard against him. Any guilt he might have felt vanished when it required a considerable amount of force to accomplish the task, proof of his lovers improved health.

It was rare for him to do this- Merlin could last for hours, but would only spill once before a long recovery time, and Arthur preferred to bring him to that finishing point while he was inside him. He took his time, enjoying this indulgence. Merlin so often took advantage of Arthur's swift recovery that he felt a little justified in this exquisite torture of the younger man. He slowly brought his lover to the edge, then backed off, shuddering with the frustrated cry that followed. Again and again he brought him close. The mixed cries of pleasure and frustration had tipped Arthur himself over a few times now, his own groans and hums of pleasure against the silken sensitive skin creating even more vocal responses.

Finally, he allowed his lover to finish with a strangled cry, swallowing the prize he had earned for his work. He'd always loved the taste of Merlin, and regretted they didn't do this more often. Carefully using his tongue to clean up every drop, he left the softened member go, conscious of just how sensitive Merlin was after an orgasm.

"Hmm," he hummed in satisfaction as he rolled over so his head was in Merlin's lap but he was looking up at him. "Yes, I can see you're all better now." Merlin leaned over and kissed him, soundly, almost enough to make him rise for a fourth time, but he broke away before that happened. "You still need to eat." He saw the wicked smile replace Merlin's disappointed pout and held up his finger to stop the thought. " _Real_ food, Merlin!"

He sat up quickly before he let the vixen tempt him again. He knew Merlin wanted to return the favor, but a quick wave at the darkening spot on his crotch proved he wasn't walking away unsatisfied with the encounter. He shook his head, thankful Gaius had managed to 'borrow' pants from his younger self so he'd have clean clothing. He changed quickly and left the room while Merlin was changing, smirking that the younger man still had his own finer clothes. Gaius had had them washed, since younger Merlin didn't actually have any to spare.

Turning around, he was greeted by a frowning Guardian. He cleared his throat. "Um, Merlin is feeling better."

"So I heard." Gaius moved to fill some bowls with the stew he always kept warm. It was important, he'd said, to make Merlin eat as often as possible. "The Lady Catrina has arrived. I am still curious as to why her arrival was of interest to you."

Arthur hesitated. Gaius knew the basic of why they were there, but Arthur hadn't shared the details. Simply marking that as the event that would begin their search. "Thank you, Gaius. Yes. I saw from the window."

"Was that before or after you accosted my patient?"

"Before," Merlin answered cheerily, coming out of the room, throwing a grin at his lover. He stuck his tongue out at the King as he passed him on the way to the table. Arthur would have retaliated, but he noticed that while Merlin definitely had a slight spring in his step, he was still moving a little more slowly than usual. Mostly recovered, but not quite all the way.

"Thank you so much, _Mer_ lin," he settled for grinding out before also going to the table. He'd worked up a bit of an appetite.

Gaius chuckled at them, shaking his head. "It's good to know not everything has changed. Eat up. No, Merlin, no bread until half that is gone. You're in desperate need for the nutrients in the stew. The bread will just fill you up. Stop pouting, it's unbecoming for a man of your station."

"It's too much, Gaius!" Merlin objected.

"It's not! I know you don't like it but it's good for you. Too accustomed to eating at the the King's table! Arthur, you've spoiled him, and I insist you stop! _Eat_ , Merlin!"

Arthur smiled, then, watching Merlin argue lightly with the older man. He'd missed this. Grief tugged at his heart when he realized Gaius wouldn't be there when they returned. He was secretly glad that Gaius had discovered them. He was sure Merlin would have insisted on not involving the older man.

He thought it strange that at no point while Merlin recovered had he been tempted to sneak out to see his own father. Perhaps because he had been dead longer and he'd already come to grips with that grief, but Arthur doubted it. There was a very large part of him that feared what he might do. It was essential that they stay hidden, and confronting his living, breathing father with all his sins, with the dark legacy Arthur was having to work so hard to overcome, was simply too tempting.

Days of conversation with Gaius had helped fill the void as they'd laughed while Arthur told stories from the better times of the last year and a half. He kept waiting for the old man to ask how he'd died- they'd been too obvious about it when they first arrived to think he didn't know- but he never did. He'd asked only once if he'd lived to see Merlin so cherished, and been content with the simple answer of 'yes'.

He sighed, knowing from his own memories that they needed to be gone from here to allow things to progress, and now that Merlin was feeling stronger, it was time to leave. And he could tell. As much as Merlin valued these moments with his mentor, they were also breaking his heart. More than once he walked in on Merlin lying the room with tears on his cheeks after a discussion with Gaius. He'd let out a few himself those times while he'd held his lover.

He'd decided on the Catacombs as their hiding place. It was far enough away from the tunnels Catrina would be taking up, but close enough that they could move easily about the Castle.

It was time to begin the hunt.

_**MERLIN10101010101101010110MERLIN** _

"Arthur, this is ridiculous. It makes more sense for us to split up," Merlin insisted, dropping to his bedroll after yet another useless day.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "What are you going to do if you do come up against Morgana? Merlin, for two days you've been trying to get rid of me. What is going on?" he asked in exasperation.

"Nothing! We're just not making any progress in following my younger self around! We've almost been caught a few times! And there's no sign of Morgana, a trap, or anything else!"

Arthur sighed, seating himself on his own bedroll. "I'm frustrated too. Our window is closing, quickly. Tomorrow my father will announce to the entire Castle that he's extending his hand in marriage to a troll. Which means she's enchanting him as we speak."

Merlin nodded. "I'm sorry, Arthur, that you have to relive this. It feels a little hypocritical for me to have had those days with Gaius and you can't speak to yours."

Arthur settled himself. He'd always made fun of Merlin for being late, but had never understood just how early the boys days started. He was already tired trying to keep up with his schedule. "You were bleeding to death and were beyond any help I could give. We needed Gaius. Also, your guardian would not have us beheaded. Mine would." He smiled. "Besides, I more than enjoyed my time with Gaius as well. I have missed the tough old goat!"

Merlin nodded, yawning. He closed his eyes. While well on his way to complete recovery, the days were still long. "Well, we know my younger self is safely tucked away with Gaius looking up revelation spells for tonight. We might as well rest while we can. Things are about to get interesting."

Arthur huffed. "Honestly, Merlin, did you ever sleep?"

Merlin chuckled drowsily. "Not really, no. Between your chores for me, serving Gaius as well, and then there was the whole 'learn a spell overnight to save Camelot' thing, then run around between chores trying not to get caught doing said saving spell… no. Sleep was scarce for many years. Food, too."

"I didn't pay you enough," Arthur laughed. He waited for a smart remark back, but received nothing. Looking over, he was surprised to see the younger man already asleep. Probably best to do the same, he thought.

_**MERLIN10101010101010MERLIN** _

For the first time in years, Arthur felt like he was ready to cuff the antsy warlock next to him. Another early start following young Merlin around, but as they wore later in the day, Merlin had become more and more on edge. He'd suggested splitting up several more times, tried to send Arthur for something to eat and a short rest, and it hadn't taken long for Arthur to realize he was trying everything he could think of to get the King away from his younger self.

He managed to rein in his own frustrations until mid-afternoon. Since lunch, the younger man had grown increasingly silent, the opposite of his nervous energy from earlier. And finally, an air of resignation had settled around him. By the time they were following a young Merlin to answer a summons to Uther's chambers- which Arthur thought odd, especially young Merlin's defeated response when the summons came- there was a decided gloom about the warlock.

Fortunately, they were able to slip into the curtained alcove across the hall from Uther's room. Young Merlin left the door wide open when he went in. Arthur watched him bow, and took in the tense way the boy was holding himself in anticipation. Decidedly odd, given his normally carefully respectful but still cheerful disposition around the King. Arthur couldn't make out what they were saying- they were quite far into the room- but he frowned when his father seemed to become angry.

It took his Merlin's strong hand against his chest to stop him from barreling in the room when Uther backhanded the boy hard enough to put him on his knees. Arthur saw red when the boy sat there, unmoving, on all fours, as if he knew better than to get up. Merlin had to put a hand over his mouth when he growled when he saw Uther take his belt to the boys back, over and over, swinging with his entire body. Small cries finally escaped the room that lanced to his heart. His Merlin was pale, but firm in his resolution that they stay put, and stay silent. He was now using his own body weight to keep Arthur still.

The beating went on for a few more minutes before his father tired, and ordered the servant out of the room. Young Merlin fled with alacrity, wiping tears from his face. Halfway down the corridor, Arthur watched him stop, take a deep breath, straighten his clothes, then straightened what had to be a painful back, and resume his normal walking speed, even greeting guards cheerily as they turned a corner in just ahead of him.

Arthur was stunned. It had been a complete transformation- and a _practiced_ one. "Tell me that was you healing yourself," he growled to his Merlin, jerking his face away from the hand that had kept him silent. He didn't need to look to know the warlock was shaking his head. Of course not. Merlin's healing magic was weak at best, and he had never been able to heal himself. " _This_ is what you didn't want me to see. This is why you've been trying to get rid of me," he seethed quietly, holding his tongue when they watched Uther finally leave the room as well. "You _knew_ this was coming," he breathed once his father was out of sight. He couldn't begin to describe the fury that was crawling along every nerve in his body.

"We have to go, Arthur. We can't stay here," Merlin answered, moving away from the curtains. He started to turn, but Arthur grabbed his upper arm, jerking him around.

"You're _still_ trying to protect me from that man!" Arthur hissed. "How often did that happen? And don't lie to me! That boy knew what was coming from the moment he received the summons! The whole damned thing was well practiced. How _often_?"

Merlin looked around and swore, then pulled his angry King across the hall, into Uther's chambers, closing the door. They were safe for a short while, anyway. "Arthur, you do _really_ think this is the time or place for this?"

" _Yes_!" Arthur roared, furious. "Damnit, Merlin! He was _beating_ you! And I… I never knew…" Why had his memories not warned him of this? Of what was happening under his nose? He groaned as one memory _did_ surface. "I threw that vase at you, in a few hours. It hit your shoulder."

"Arthur-" Merlin warned.

"You flinched, and I called you a girl." Arthur leaned forward, gasping for breath, feeling like he was going to be sick. "Your back is welts and bruises that would have lasted for days. You were in the practice yard with me the next day. We thought it was funny to use you as a practice dummy. Oh god."

Merlin was watching him, sadness in his eyes. "Arthur, don't do this to yourself," he pleaded.

Arthur closed his eyes. "Tell me you went to Gaius. Tell me you got treated." He sucked in another breath when silence answered him, letting it out in a half laugh, half sob. "Of course you didn't. You wouldn't dream of hurting Gaius with that knowledge. Because it's just you, right, Merlin? So long as _you're_ the only one suffering then all is well. Suffering in silence is what you _do_."

"Arthur, we need to go. We have a mission to finish."

Arthur stood, his eyes flashing his rage. "A mission," he snarled. "Tell me, Merlin, which mission is that? To save my life? To protect Camelot? Or perhaps the one to preserve what few good memories of the monster I called father that I have? Or, _maybe_ , it's the one to protect Gwen? Or Gaius? Or one of the Knights? Or _anyone_ else," he roared, kicking over a chair in his fury, " _other_ than yourself!"

"Yes! That mission! All of them!" Merlin yelled back, equally angry and frustrated. "You lived an entire life through my eyes and you _still_ don't get it! I have given everything," he was shaking now as he stabbed an angry finger toward the floor. " _everything_ , toward those. My destiny has crushed me at every turn. Every loss, every sacrifice asked of me, every wound I took, I gave it all. And no matter how often I was offered another choice, was offered a path of recognition, of power… gods above, even peace from it all… I chose the same. I chose to believe in _you_. In a future that we _succeeded_ in building! And if that future cost me a few beatings from an ignorant man I can feel nothing but pity for, or a visiting noble who felt I should know my place, it was a light price to pay. Because I _knew_ my place. It was with _you_ , at your side, serving, protecting you, as I always have been."

' _I have nothing left to pay with. Am I finished now?'_

' _His price is too high'_

Merlin didn't remember uttering those words, but Arthur did, remembered hearing the pain in them, the desperate longing. The plea for an end. He'd thought he'd understood. He'd been wrong. So terribly wrong.

Merlin took a deep breath to calm himself, blinking back the moisture in his eyes. "I never cared about protecting Uther, Arthur. He made my life a living hell whether through his temper, his ignorance, his hatred, or through deciding it was up to him to teach me to be a proper servant to you. But he meant so much to _you_. Another small price asked of me, to preserve your faith in him. Your sanity. Your need for the little family you had left. I stopped you from killing him because it would have destroyed _you_. I wept when he died not because of the loss of him, but because I knew in my heart how much that loss would pain _you_ , wept because I failed to spare you from it." He looked away for a moment, letting the tears drop, then turned back to his shocked lover. "So yes, Arthur. That mission, and all of them. I will _always_ judge them more important than the life of a servant, of a tool of destiny. No many how many fancy titles you give me, I am a nobody, I will always _be_ nothing, in the bigger picture."

Arthur shivered then, as the certainty of the future unfolded before him, felt it cement itself in Fates tapestry. He would lose Merlin. The boy would ultimately find his end by stepping in front of Arthur, blindly failing to recognize that King Arthur did not exist without him. There would never be a hesitation. Merlin simply would _never_ believe Arthur's conviction that their lives were twined together. He felt the newest thread of the Bond reach up at his unintentional call. The promise he had bound them to as Sword and Shield. It wrapped itself around him, whispering to him that there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Not now. The boy would never believe on his own. Pretty words, Merlin had once accused him of. Pretty words and no real power. Except, he realized, now he _did_ have that power. He felt the slight push from the thread, encouraging his revelation.

Swearing, Arthur marched over and grabbed the younger man by his upper shoulders, bringing his mouth down with a bruising ferocity on delicate lips. He felt Merlin's moment of shock, then felt him melt into it, use it offer apology, and to ask for forgiveness. As Arthur deepened the kiss, he willingly gave all the forgiveness Merlin asked for even as he gathered The Bond to him, gathered all the threads that he had built, reinforced that promise of a shared life, then stretched it out toward his lover.

Merlin's eyes flew open as he felt it, tried to move away, but Arthur held him tight, refusing to let go of the sealing kiss. He drew the power of the Bond to him, mixed it with his love, his knowledge that Merlin was his future, his reason for living, for trying, and bound them to that, too. Because he could, he reached for Merlin's magic, pulling it to him, using it encompass the Bond, flow into it. He felt his eyes burn as he built a new thread, one connecting his life force to Merlin's, using it to envelope them both in an orange light only he could see. He was _done_ with pretty words, with spoken promises.

"No!" Merlin gasped, tears streaming from his eyes, understanding _what_ Arthur was doing, even if he didn't know _how_. "No, don't do this!"

Arthur ignored him, wrapped the new thread around them both, pulling it tight. He gasped as he felt it settle into place, tied and completed. He released his grip, and the warlock slid to the floor at his feet, panting for breath as sobs shook the small frame.

"What have you done?" Merlin whispered in horror.

"Made my choice, Merlin," he replied calmly, feeling the tides of power that had surrounded him fade away, felt his eyes return to normal, though the gold crown pulsed a moment more before settling. "Just as you made yours."


	12. Chapter 12 Final Chapter Book 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: And here we are, final Chapter of Book 3! Thank you so, so much to all who have read, followed, favorited, and reviewed this story. I am in the final edits now of Book 5, the last and final conclusion of this series. Thank you, truly, to all those who have helped inspire me, encourage me. Hope to see you all in Book 4, The Trials of Destiny!
> 
> MERLIN101010101101010MERLIN

"I don't understand!" Arthur growled in frustration. "This is when it's supposed to happen! Well, you've saved Camelot, all is well. Where is she? Is it at all possible she didn't survive the trip back?"

He was growing restless and angry with their continued failures to locate his witch of a sister as the days passed. Days that were filled with tension. More and more, Arthur had seen things he'd spent years blind to in the life Merlin lived as a youth. They didn't speak of it, and there were no more outbursts from Arthur. It was easy to tell, however, that Merlin was trying to focus on what needed to be done. He refused to speak of or acknowledge the link Arthur had created between them- nor had the younger man forgiven him for doing it in the first place.

For himself, Arthur felt he had aptly warned the warlock there were some things he would never allow 'discussion' for again. Creating the link was just such a thing. Hearing Merlin tell him with utter conviction that he would _always_ choose Arthur first had forced the King to protect him the only way he felt he could. If Merlin _never_ forgave him for doing it, he didn't care. Merlin would be forced now to consider that he was sacrificing his King every time he considered sacrificing himself. That the result _had_ to be worth paying the ultimate cost for both of them.

Merlin shook his head. "If I survived it in my condition, she would have as well, given her time to prepare verses my last minute attempt. Not to mention, if she had failed, the future wouldn't have changed. No, she's still here, somewhere." He pulled his cloak more tightly around himself. This part of the castle had always been cold. He considered taking off the silver circlet that was getting cold on his skin, but decided against it. Arthur had been correct in his thoughts that they'd need every shred of proof of their future claim if they were caught.

The _only_ thing Merlin was willing to consider Arthur had been right in lately. He was still furious with the stubborn man. He wasn't entirely sure exactly what Arthur had done, but the link pulsed in time with his own magic, and he could sense that Arthur had somehow connected their deaths. A choice, Arthur had called it, to match Merlin's. Stupid, _stupid_ King! The entire future rested on _Arthur's_ shoulders, not his! He had only ever been meant to be an expendable pawn in the game of destiny, whether his spoiled prat of a King liked it or not! He'd have to find some way to undo the link, obviously, if they ever managed to get back to their future.

He just wished he understood where Arthur had gotten the power to create it in the first place. It wasn't the first time the King had displayed a gift all of his own. Not quite magic, but a power source all the same. He'd admit, he felt a growing connection between them since he'd died. And Arthur had occasionally mentioned a Bond, but he doubted the subtle instinct he knew made him aware when Arthur needed him could be wielded so.

"But you're more powerful than Morgana," Arthur argued, confused.

Merlin hesitated, wondering how to explain this to Arthur. "At my core, yes, I am. What I can access is infinite, in comparison. I can do by instinct what she needs study, spells and components to accomplish. But _she_ has training, has _knowledge_. Where I'm fumbling in the dark, she knows every twist and turn of her craft, taught by one who had been taught from birth. It's like, if you and I had a sword fight. Is there an equal chance of me defeating you because my sword is made better than yours?" Merlin arched an eyebrow at him.

Arthur huffed, shaking his head. "No, I see your point. So. What do we do now? Keep trailing the younger you?"

Merlin shook his head. "No, he's with you, at the moment." He smirked. "Going for a hug, as we speak actually. Just down the hall. You're about to brutally reject his offer of friendship," he teased.

Arthur shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry about that. I was very confused." Arthur saw his lover go suddenly pale.

"Gwen."

"Well, yes, she was part of it…"

"No, Arthur," Merlin waved away, standing. "Just after that, I met up with Gwen. Morgana had just dismissed her for the night." He started down the hall.

Arthur moved with him, confused when the boy started running. "I don't understand."

"We've been _idiots_! Think about it, Arthur! Throughout all of this, it's the first time both myself _and_ Morgana were actually _alone_!"

Realization dawned on Arthur, and he ran harder.

They turned a corner and skidded to a stop, peeking around it. Ahead was the younger versions of Morgana and Merlin, talking.

"… Emrys, really now. You don't have to make this harder on yourself," Morgana was saying. "It's not personal."

"Morgana, I don't understand," the servant replied, shaking his head, stepping back even as Morgana stepped forward. She raised her hand, and he cried out, driven to his knees in pain of whatever she had done.

"Well," she gloated, "maybe it's a _little_ personal."

The Court Sorcerer put a hand to Arthur's chest to stop him from moving forward as he drew his sword. "Wait. She's Soul Traveled. We can't kill her, Arthur," he whispered urgently.

"What? Why not?" Arthur looked at him liked he'd grown another head.

"If we want everything back the way it was, we can't risk killing her younger self. This timeline must go along as it was meant to! She's a part of that. Your sword is not the solution here."

"Then what _do_ we do?" Arthur growled. "Even _you_ can't talk Morgana to death." Merlin shot him a grin and another arched eyebrow. Arthur cursed as he understood Merlin was going to see about just how true that was.

"Let's see where the truth gets us," he muttered to himself. Shaking his head, Merlin reached his hand out. " _Māmor_ ," he whispered, his eyes glowing gold for a moment. Arthur watched, confused, as young Merlin collapsed, and Morgana let out a cry of rage, turning in a circle.

"Emrys!" She yelled. "Show yourself!"

Merlin stepped out from around the corner they had been hiding, spreading his hands. "I'm here, Morgana."

"How?" she screamed. "You're supposed to be dead! That poison should have killed even you!" Her eyes widened as they took in an older Arthur, standing firmly beside his warlock, sword at the ready. "It's not possible!"

"Magic summoned me, Morgana. The same magic _you_ _serve_ , High Priestess, I am bound to remind you," Merlin replied firmly. There was a tinge of rebuke in his voice, affronted at the horror she had created in daring to meddle with forces beyond her ken.

Arthur shot a sidelong glance at his Consort. While his lover had grown into his titles and rank, he was never more impressive as when he was righteously facing off against a threat. The King could practically smell the power on him, and there was a confidence and strength in every word, every movement he made. An added element of grace, when his true potential was clearly visible, when he somehow had access to wisdom as ancient as the source of his power. The conviction of purpose that echoed in his voice had always made Arthur shiver. His lover was absolutely glorious like this.

Morgana's young face twisted into fury. "I _am_ serving Magic! Too long have you protected the Pendragon line of tyranny. Too long have you sat idly by while our kind suffered! This will end it all!" she screeched.

Arthur flinched, having recently heard words very similar from the man who had poisoned Merlin. He couldn't help but tighten his grip on his sword. Merlin was in the lead here- this was a battle of wits and words, not steel- but he wouldn't hesitate to protect him, timeline or not.

Merlin nodded, saddened. "Yes, Morgana, it will." She beamed in victory, but he shook his head. "It will end all life. It will end Magic."

She fell back a few steps, shaking her head in denial. "No. No, he has to die! I will not let a serving boy defeat _me_! I _will_ rule Camelot as is my right, and I _will_ return Magic to the land!"

"Think about it, Morgana!" Merlin urged, slowly walking forward. "You Soul Traveled- tricky but easily enough done. _We_ are here, in the _flesh_! What kind of power must have sent us to make it so?" Morgana hesitated, uncertain. Merlin pressed his advantage. "Why do you think we've made no threat to kill you? Because we know we can't. To kill her, now, would change everything in ways we can't begin to predict. This has to stop here, with _nothing_ changed."

Morgana barked a laugh. "You couldn't kill me. No weapon wielded by mortal man can. That's why you're wasting time, talking. You're trying to distract me." She flung up her hand, letting loose a fireball.

Merlin threw up his hands, but instead of deflecting the fireball, he absorbed it into his own hands, crying out. "Stop, Morgana! _Nothing_ can change! Not even a scorch mark on a wall!" he pleaded, showing her his burned hands as proof of how serious he was in his intentions. "You know I _can_ kill you, and I don't need a blade to do it. We both know I am no mortal man. I choose to serve Magic, even if it means sparing the life that will cause so much pain and loss in the future, threaten everything I hold dear. In her body, you aren't nearly powerful enough to stop me. But I can't give in to that, I can't prevent the pain I know you will unleash. We are the last two truly powerful beings left, a balance to each other, Light and Dark. _Our_ great battle is yet to come, Morgana. It was never meant to take place now."

Morgana hesitated again, eyes flicking to a silent but tense Arthur. "Even if I believed Magic would summon you, Emrys, then why bring _him_?"

Merlin allowed himself a small smile. "I'm sure you remember your brother's stubbornness is well matched to your own," he teased, having a hard time seeing beyond the young woman he had cared so much about. "A shared gift from Uther, I suspect."

Morgana sneered. "As, it seems, is his cruelty. My _brother's_ last message to me was very clear. I will confess, Arthur, I was impressed. I hadn't you capable."

Merlin glanced at Arthur, confused, but his King was resolutely not looking at him. "But it's not his message I bring you, Morgana. I know what you believe to be true, with as much conviction as I have in my own beliefs. I can't talk you out of your right to your anger and hatred. I wish so much had turned out differently between us. But this is so much bigger than us, than our petty Causes- yours _or_ mine! It is the will of the Goddess, of the ancient Magic we _both_ serve, that you swear to end your travails in this time. That you return to complete your destiny in the future as it was meant to be."

"You cannot be my doom, Emrys, if I finish this now."

"No, I can't. _You_ will be." He took a deep breath. "And doom all of magic along with you. If you require proof, then here..."

He closed his eyes, spreading his arms wide, drawing into himself all the magic around him, the life of the earth itself, the freedom of the sky, the wildness of the seas. It came to him, flowed into him, as if it had been waiting for his Call. He heard them both gasp as wisps of yellow, brown, green, and blue aura's swirled around him, through him. They glowed in their power, light pulsing through them as they merged with his own magic.

Opening his eyes again, molten gold twisting together with the aura's he'd taken in, he stretched out a ruined hand toward her. "Take my hand, Morgana. We are being offered the way back. All of us. You can feel it calling to you, High Priestess." He held the other toward Arthur. "Take it, Arthur. We'll go together. Our battle is not here, not now."

"But you, I mean, Merlin, he…" Arthur objected, gesturing toward the unconscious form on the floor.

Emrys, and Arthur had a sense that this truly was no longer _his_ Merlin, smiled patiently. "Is merely asleep. He will wake with no memory of any of this." He let a small tendril flow from him to the unconscious boy. Arthur frowned when another tendril wrapped itself around Morgana. "As will she. All _must_ progress as it was meant to," he urged them both when Arthur made a sound of objection.

Morgana gasped as it wrapped around her, surprised to understand it meant her no harm, that it was, instead, working to protect her younger self. More importantly, she could sense the source of that power. Emrys was merely a vessel, she realized. It made her angry, but she could no longer deny that his coming was a greater intervention. What might the consequences be for denying it?

She looked at Emrys again. Looked into his eyes, and saw nothing of the servant she hated almost as much as she did her brother. _This_ being was as ancient as the earth itself, and had no emotion for her at all. This being cared only for restoring balance, for making right what she had rent asunder.

Screaming her frustration, she reached for the steady, extended hand. "Our day _will_ come, Emrys."

Emrys nodded, his expression touched with a deeper sadness. "Yes, Morgana, it will. That battle has long been our destiny."

He surrendered when he felt both of them grab his burned, outstretched hands, their own unique powers mixing with the magic he was channeling, completing the missing pieces of the source that had prevented him from forcing all of them back.

With a cry, he channeled all three forces, moving time back into place.

_**MERLIN1010101010101010101MERLIN** _

Artemis moved swiftly, checking to make sure the two unconscious forms were alive. He breathed a sigh of relief, patting their shoulders in congratulations.

"Well done, my boys, well done."


End file.
